


That Sweet Sweet Craving

by TheUltimateUndesirable



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Awkward Dates, Bars and Pubs, Blow Jobs, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Coming Out, Complete, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Denial of Feelings, Depressed Harry Potter, Depression, Doggy Style, Drunk Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Escort Harry Potter, False Identity, Gay Sex, Good Draco Malfoy, Graphic Description, Greece, Happy Ending, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Healing, Homophobia, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Inspired by an Imagine Dragons Song, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mind Manipulation, Model Draco Malfoy, Not Canon Compliant, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Panic Attacks, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Power Bottom Draco Malfoy, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, References to Drugs, Revulsion to Female Body, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Self-Harm, Self-Harming Harry, Smut, Song: Bleeding Out (Imagine Dragons), Stalking, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Harry Potter, Vacation, misogynistic views
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24880273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUltimateUndesirable/pseuds/TheUltimateUndesirable
Summary: Harry is miserable living a lie because he thinks being a gay role model is wrong. Fake dates raising money for a charity that ends up putting him in a situation he had never expected. Draco Malfoy appears back in his life by some odd chance trying to flip his world upside down and he isn't sure it's a good thing. Malfoy always worked that way to him. Mental health issues, sex, escaping, and that sweet sweet craving that is happiness.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 35
Kudos: 163
Collections: HD Wireless 2020





	1. Women

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I’m so excited to finally have found a reason/way to write this! It was literally a dream I had. Except instead of it being Harry in my nightmare it was one of the HP actors I won't name specifically, and I literally woke up in a sweat from it wanting to cry. It broke my heart and stayed with me so I wrote it down and I could imagine it in more of a Harry situation than the actor's character. So it has been a drabble about 6 months now. When I saw the option for Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons (one of my fav songs) it totally just screamed to me! Of course I’d hoped it would be simple…...and one shot….but….yea…..
> 
> There will be mental health issues in this of a graphic nature due to self harm but I will post a trigger warning in that chapter's beginning notes but go into this forewarned. 
> 
> A/N 2: All rights belong to JK, Im not an English major, don't like don't read etc. etc. etc.

Not an ounce of excitement was within him, but he did it anyways. He would go through with it and give it an hour before telling her to leave if she didn’t on her own. The quicker they left the better. 

It was honestly embarrassing what people would pay for an evening with the Chosen One. The funny part was that he didn't even do the dates for the galleons. Their money just justified it slightly, but mostly he did it to bury the truth with fake hope of one day enjoying it. Most of the money he did donate to charity just like advertised. There was no need for him to keep it all and really he didn’t want to. However he felt like he was owed something more than just a famous name and pass in any shop he wanted for all the shite he still had to do. 

They had been snogging against the entrance wall of his flat like so many others. His true home was Grimmauld Place but he would never bring these women there. Although on more than one occasion when he had to endure a particularly annoying bitch of a witch he debated taking her to meet Walburga. Her portrait, as much he loathed the woman, would put them in their place easily or send them running for the hills. Both he would be grateful for no matter what words she would spit at him.

The woman whose name he didn't even care to remember, attacked him again the moment the door closed behind them. Her hands grabbed at his neck as she slammed their lips together sloppily. She wasn’t even drunk from their dinner together but she had been fidgeting the entire time and he had known right away it was going to be one of those nights. On some dates out of respect or decision they didn’t proceed to his flat. More often than not though they did. 

Harry on the other hand was quite drunk. It was the only way, otherwise it would be nearly unbearable to endure the whole thing. Date nights were anywhere from a good buzz at rare times but often he ended up straight shit faced. His potions cabinet held a generous amount of vials and something he never ran out of was hangover potion. 

Needing to break away and be done with this one he sank to his knees easily because he was weighted and tired both physically and emotionally. He groped at her breasts to allow himself to steady his head, resting it against her tight stomach which was rapidly rising and falling. This was his least favorite way but it was the quickest for women like her, already on edge and needy.

Harry patted her thigh and encouraged her to lift over his shoulder. “Hook your leg around me,” he suggested hoping his slur wasn’t overly distinguishable. 

Watching him breathlessly, with what may have been blue eyes as he glanced up for the briefest second, she did as he suggested. Whimpering when he told her to do the same with her other leg. It left her light frame lifted from the ground, weight distributed evenly between her back on the wall and his shoulders. This one will be easy. 

Her plum colored dress was raised when he lifted her and it forced him to come face to face with it. No knickers of course, she had clearly thought of what she wanted before she even left home, and he instantly knew it would be the same, not that he had doubted it. Her own stubble would be brushing against his. He desperately wished girls wouldn’t do that. They would let it grow out just enough to be annoying. Why couldn't they just keep a clean shave or leave it natural? Everyone always gave him shite if he wasn’t clean shaved or sporting his full beard. 

Accepting the scratch he gave her wet lower lips a tentative lick. Don’t puke, don’t puke, don’t puke. For a second he would blame the alcohol for the urge to run to the loo but a second later he would remember the alcohol was the only reason he was able to make it this close to a woman’s snatch anymore. 

With Ginny he had been a curious confused young man, but now there was no more doubt. Majority of the time he couldn't get his cock up enough to have actual penetrative sex. If the woman was truly insistent or demanding though he would close his eyes let her do as she pleased with his body. Visualizing the inevitable and trying as hard as he could to keep it in his head long enough to last until she was finished. 

Although Harry’s mind wandered, his hands and face didn't. He continued to support her weight on his shoulders. Hands on her hips encouraging them forward even more than she was already bucking as his mouth worked her crazy. Tongue flicking her clit over and over again. Sliding it through her soft flesh covered in arousal repeatedly. Nose rubbing against her bundle of nerves in place of his tongue as he would slide it in and out until she was squirming and gripping at his skull. 

Unable to take anymore he sucked and pressed harshly on the sensitive nub with his tongue. Causing her body to tense, legs squeezing his head as she held onto his hair crying out in the pleasure of her orgasm. Probably made more intense by the fact it was actually Harry Potter giving it to her. When they came with such intensity he couldn’t help but roll his eyes no matter the state of his drunkenness and if it made him dizzy. The whole thing was a dramatic nightmare. 

Finally her body sagged onto him heavier than before and he lowered her back to her feet to recover as he stood. He tried hard not to make a disgusted expression at the taste of her on his tongue and the feeling of her fluid coating his face. Just fucking kill me please. 

“I'm gonna use the loo,” Harry mumbled as an excuse to disappear. They hadn’t made it past the entryway hall and the loo was only around the corner. He just needed to make it to the shower. Then he could at least try to clean off the reality of what was another unpleasant memory stored in his brain that even the alcohol didn’t erase.

It was the same routine every time. Just like it had been for years now. Do whatever activity they wanted, followed by dinner. Show them some vague, unenthused interest. Then potentially go to the flat and let the woman have her way. Provide minimal words if they stuck around more than a few minutes until she grew frustrated and threw a fit. 

Maybe they would even throw his vase by the door like many times before as they insulted him, storming out in the process. He preferred that greatly over the few times women had left in tears expecting more of him and asking what they had done wrong. Those nights had led to him to finish getting pissed face in the muggle world, which had resulted in horrible decisions. Like doing some crushed pills with a bloke in the loo and allowing himself to be shagged seven ways to Sunday like a true slag by five different men who took their turn with him.

It was always a relief though when they left him alone. Alone in peaceful silence while he half arse contemplated his life or replayed the past, never with any real effort. Instead he welcomed the numbing of his brain as he stared at the ceiling with mostly empty thoughts. Floor firm against his back holding him there while life slowly ticked by.

XXXXXXXXXX 

Harry emptied yet another glass of Prolin's high class wine. It was one of his favorite restaurants he liked to visit on his dates, but with his reputation he changed up the location each time at random so there was no predictably to where he would be. The first few months he had started doing this he had learned that quickly from all the other fans that came just to ogle him. 

Tonight's date, who's name he hadn't bothered to remember, had actually been tolerable for the most part. The woman had chosen for them to attend the Royal Ballet in the muggle world. It was a very unusual and unexpected choice in his opinion, but he had simply gone along with it. He had started his buzz before having even left Grimmauld in preparation for the show. 

Who knew what the ballet would be like after all. The thought of potential hours spent watching something he knew nothing about had him heading straight to his liquor cabinet for the firewhiskey after he dressed. He was correct in needing it also as the ballet turned out to be just fancy dancing to music performed by a bunch of men and women in tights. Tights he tried not to pay any mind to. Instead he just watched the general movement while listening to the music. 

There was something different about his date tonight though that he couldn't quite place and he had tried for a good portion of the evening. She was incredible for a woman. Nearly an inch over him and he wasn't short himself. She had long, nearly white, blond hair. Her features were sharp and smooth. A vibrant color underneath her pale skin. Blue eyes that shined even though they were more on the grey side. 

She held herself confidently as well. Not at all shy or hesitant or unsure of herself around him at all, unlike everyone else of the last three years he had been doing this. There was a certain amount of grace about her also. All evening she had remained mostly quiet and kept a respectable distance. Talking only briefly and casually about the ballet performance once it ended which had been very easy considering they mostly agreed on the subject. They both appreciated the skill behind it but agreed it dragged on to long. She seemed to understand some art aspect of it that he didn't though. 

Fingers suddenly snapped in front of his face and he blinked rapidly realizing he had been staring. It wasn’t something that ever actually happened as his dates would be trying to flirt and talk away. Occasionally trying to toy with his feet which had him on constant alert and edge making him wish desperately for death while avoiding eye contact. This woman had done none of that and was now looking at him with an unimpressed glare of annoyance. 

“So this is how the famous Harry Potter handles his dates is it?” she almost sneered at him taking a large drink of her own glass of wine. Almost to the point she tossed it all the way back, but that grace she held didn’t make it seem so undignified. 

Harry furrowed his brows trying to process whatever the implication was but he was already past a pleasant buzz. He had had to recreate the original buzz before extending on it considering the firewhiskey had started to wear off an hour into the two hour dance, counting the dancers breaks. “Yeah?” he answered unsurely. 

The woman scoffed, sitting down her empty wine glass and picking up her black leather handbag. They had finished their main course and were awaiting their dessert menus, options being so many that the restaurant had made them a seperate one so when searching for entrees they weren’t flipping through seven pages. However apparently she had no intention of staying as she stood and started to walk out. 

No date had ever done such a thing and it took him off guard. They always enjoyed dessert due to the price the women paid even when the night had been dreadfully dull, and they left the restaurant together. Harry tossed a handful of uncounted galleons down on the table and went after her. He couldn't allow them to be upset with him before at least some kissing and groping happened otherwise their silencing contract wouldn't be triggered. Then the entire wizarding world could know what a further disappointment he was. Charities wouldn’t receive another sickle from him. It always sent him into a panic worrying any of them would say anything suggestive about him.

When he got out the doors seconds behind the woman he saw her walking down the left side of the street towards the alley they had apparated in. Harry jogged to catch up to her leaving him slightly winded from the weight of liquor in his blood. “Do you want to go back to my place?” Harry asked her breathlessly when he reached her side. 

The woman still turned the corner into the alley ignoring him so he reached out and grabbed her elbow. She stopped moving and turned on him. Narrowing her eyes as if pissed that he had the nerve to touch her. 

“I uh….Im sorry?” he tried darting his eyes around trying to figure out how to remedy the situation. Apologies always were the go to with women he had learned. This woman merely arched a blond eyebrow at him. 

“Do you take all your dates home Mr.Potter?” she accused him distastefully, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“No,” Harry replied instantly. It was actually the truth. Sometimes the women were so bloody impatient they would start snogging him right at the apparation points. At which point he would end up insulting her and forcing her off of him due to the public indecency. Something else he didn’t need on the front cover of the Prophet. Muggles would hardly care but he knew some Skeeter intern could be lurking. 

Everything was silent for a moment and Harry worried that the witch would just apparate without warning. Vanish from the night leaving him in a state of worry he would only be able to get rid of for the rest of the evening with the aid of more alcohol. The next day it would still be back full force and he would constantly be awaiting the Prophet or hearing from his date planner on the cancels or lack of sudden booking. His stomach became slightly nauseous just from the idea. 

When the woman slowly offered him her arm he exhaled in relief and quickly took it before she could change her mind. Apparating her straight to the front door of his flat building. He grabbed her hand, flicked his wand for show to allow them inside, and started dragging her up the stairs. She managed to keep up with little effort and he regretted not taking the elevator before they even reached level four considering he was on the very top level of seven. 

“You do realize there was an elevator down there right?” the woman said dryly despite being a bit winded herself. 

Harry ignored her as they climbed the last two flights and entered his hallway. The owner had given him the entire floor to himself since he had even considered his building for a home, one of the bonuses of his status that he appreciated. Still he chose to secure his room with a surplus of wards. His magical signature was the only way in and he placed his hand against the door which shimmered at his touch. Unlocking with a click and allowing him to turn the handle. 

When they were in the entryway he relaxed his grip on her hand and she took the opportunity to jerk it away. “What the bloody hell is your problem? You were moving like you were running from the bloody press,” she snapped and Harry just looked at her as she took a moment to scan the room. “A nearly empty flat? I must say I was sure you were more a comfortable living family man. Pictures and sentimental nonsense.” 

“I don’t like clutter,” he improvised. It was a partial truth. He hated clutter also but he appreciated photos, memorables, and family heirlooms.

The woman seemed to accept the answer with another less critical glance around the room. “I can relate to that well enough,” she mumbled. 

Harry swallowed nervously. Was she going to make the first move like most of the others? If not he was going to need a bit more liquor. His panic and running had evaporated a little. Smartly enough to keep his own wine and gin stash in the place. “Drink?” he asked hoping she would take it. 

“Such unpleasant company that you need to drink the night away eh?” she asked rhetorically. 

He merely shrugged it off as nothing, walking over to the liquor cabinet that he kept a chilled statis charm on. “Can’t a man appreciate some drinks with a lovely witch? It is a date after all.” This woman was proving to have a very observant, critical, and strong personality. Therefore he opted for his strongest gin. Pouring a cup and downing it before pouring himself another along with hers. 

“I will pass,” she said dismissively when he stood close and offered it to her. 

For some reason this witch was giving him an even more uncomfortable feeling than all the others. They never ran from him and they never turned a drink down with him. He didn’t like it so he tossed both cups down his throat, shook his head and levitated them back to the table despite what her judgement would be.

She had chosen to wear a white fringed blouse for the evening that showed off just the right amount of yellow in her hair. Enough to show it was indeed blond and not actually white. Together they contrasted her pale skin showing the subtle pink warmth. Her pencil black skirt stopped just above the knees of her long equally pale legs. Black closed toe heels matched everything about her. It was actually quite lovely the more he looked at the entirety but traveling back up her legs reminded him what it belonged on.

Harry shivered and hated himself but took the step forward ready to kiss her. When he did she stepped back like she was surprised by the move. He tilted his head in confusion at her action and she looked at him with a slightly lesser look of confusion. 

With alcohol thrumming in his veins happily again he took the two steps between them in a more confident rush. Landing their lips together. Not roughly but not delicately either. He brought a hand up to caress her cheek and keep her in place. To him she seemed like she might like being the delicate one in bed despite her outward persona. At first she tried to move back from the kiss but Harry followed her, moving his hand to underneath her long hair to hold the back of her head. 

When he did that she actually relaxed in his touch and even allowed the kiss to move from a closed off chaste kiss to actually accepting it. She moved her lips slowly, open and deeper, with his. The woman didn't become aggressive, instead opting apparently for him to set the pace. She only took what he gave her and she didn’t move to touch him more. 

Harry tried to close the distance between them by placing a hand on her hip which was surprisingly narrow. Then again her blouse was looser around where it was tucked in properly to her skirt and he hadn't exactly looked. She moved her hand bag between their bodies though to prevent them from becoming flush. Something he appreciated and didn’t at the same time. They couldn’t very well upgrade to groping if she wasn’t going to touch him and was going to be reserved. Usually they dropped all their guard when they kissed the Saviour. 

As they took to full on snogging Harry found himself holding onto her head more and more as a brace. Partly because he was so intoxicated now that the gin was coursing and partly because she was a skilled kisser. He would definitely give her that much as she played with his tongue, tracing his teeth and sucking on his lips. For a moment the stiff stance she had maintained holding her bag between them softened.

When she let out a quiet moan against his mouth he slid his other hand up her ribs, which was a flat smooth expanse that seemed to go on forever. A noise of displeasure had her closing off the kiss enough that he took the hint not to go there for some reason. So instead he put more passion into the snogging. Moving it around to grab her arse. It wasn't full or voluptuous but it had a nice firm form. Most women's arses he found were softer and meatier. She wiggled in his touch and he squeezed tighter. 

This witch was just something else from her personality down to her body. While he still wasn't aroused by her specifically she had him picking out every physical similarity she had with some of the blokes he had been with. One standing out clearly. 

He had taken Harry back to his flat which was only a street over from the small bar he had decided on that night. They had stumbled down the sidewalk clumsily hand in hand laughing. Falling out of the elevator mid snog when the door opened because they hadn't paid any mind to which wall they leaned on. 

Sounds the woman made were muffled but they had to be good. He was nearly putting in some of his top effort. She was lucky for being one of his better dates. It allowed him less stress and more emotional freedom to think about what really got him excited. Like how the bloke had pushed him onto his bed and climbed on top of him. Grinding against him, sucking on his neck as he had held on tightly to the man's firm arse. Thrusting up as he did so to enjoy the friction of their cloth covered cocks rubbing together. 

“Potter…” 

Harry growled wanting that neck and slid down to the one he was currently placing rough kisses on. They never knew his name because he always passed himself off as James. Maybe next time he would give him his proper name to finally hear it in bed. 

The woman's sharp jawline was pleasant to lick against. Just like he had been before the bloke had rolled off him to rid himself of trousers and pants. He himself had been too wasted to consider moving and had only undid his trousers enough to free his cock. The man had been a total power bottom and maybe a bit of a little fiesty brat. Harry smacked the arse he was holding lightly before trying to dip into the back waistband of her skirt. 

“Potter! Stop it you stupid git!” came the deep angry tone of a pissed off man. The muggle never shouted and it caused Harry to pull back just as she shoved him away from her. “Get off me!” she fumed. 

Harry stumbled backwards from the force and tried to clear his eyes so they would focus. Shaking his head coming back to the moment. “What?” he slurred, almost annoyed for his happy mindset being disrupted. 

The woman stalked forward angrily. Grabbing his chin roughly and pulling him closer to her face, almost causing him to fall. For a moment he thought she was going to kiss him again but she didn't. She just stared at him in the eyes. Deeply. 

Her eyes were intense so close and weirdly enough he found them captivating. You could see the blue more clearly but there were the flecks of grey around her pupils. Memories of different blokes' eyes came into mind and so many visions of his dates flew past him that it caused him to drop to his knees with dizziness unable to follow them. Still she held onto his chin as he went down and kept an eye contact he was unable to look away from. He hardly felt his weight on his knees.

His alcohol level seemed to grow even more and he went from swimmy to an almost out of body feeling. He thought he would melt to the floor if she let go of his chin. She was so different from all the others. Strong. Firm. Confident. It reminded him of a different bloke at one of the muggle bars. That experience had been exhilarating. 

The woman's grip on his chin lightened until she was just barely cupping it. Her expression was now cold and unreadable. Completely expressionless. Her eye seemed to twitch and he wondered what she was thinking or going to do. She stood upright and continued to look down her long nose at him and once again he felt small and insignificant in the world. Then without another word she left. 


	2. Mistaken

“Come on tell me something. Is he a total drunkard? Each time he was in there he got drunk off his arse.” Pansy tried prying at him again. 

Draco chose to ignore her. Again. Instead he chose to continue writing while she nagged at him from behind on the couch. Sharing a flat he was stuck suffering her persistent presence and therefore annoyance on the subject. It usually wasn’t that bad to live with the witch, but at the moment he was about to start searching for his own. 

They had shared a flat together since after the battle of Hogwarts nearly seven years ago. Neither of them had returned for eighth year and their NEWTS. Both of them were disowned by their families for refusing to jump into arranged marriages. To help repopulate the pureblood population due to all those lost under Voldemort's reign. His reason was because he was gay with no desire to continue the Malfoy name. Pansy refused because she didn’t want to continue being in the pressured environment she had for years.

Despite Pansy’s third year crush on him they had been almost best friends for years and the timing and situations worked out so that neither of them really struggled. He had left the manor with enough heirlooms to sell and enough gold to get them through a few months happily. Even if it was a flat in the unsavory area not far from Knockturn Alley. 

Pansy had managed to get a job in the Eternal Flame as a waiter eventually. Granted it took encouraging on his end and determination on hers to be something for her to do it. However soon enough though she had been promoted to the bartender. Where she flourished making cocktails. Plus she loved the extra tips she got from some of the more distasteful men who were drinking themselves silly. While others may have been put off by the blatant behavior she used it to her benefit. 

It had taken him longer to find something to do for a job with his name and eventually after months, long talks with Pansy and beating his head on the walls a few times he had opted for the muggle world. He had started off simple searching for things he knew like books and gained himself a position in one of the muggle librairies. A few years later a co worker encouraged him to try out for some modeling auditions since they loved his flamboyant attitude and proper dress. Due to sheer dumb luck he had been hired on and instead of stacking books and sitting around constantly he attended regular photoshoots for a variety of clothing.

“You have to tell me something, Draco. It’s been two days already and you’ve been avoiding my conversation by keeping your nose in that bloody journal,” she complained. 

Gripping his quill extra tight to keep from throwing it he bit his lip. He had no desire to talk about his date with Potter at all. Hell he was still trying to work out his feelings on the matter. So he spent his time writing, a hobby he had gathered from working in the library due to all the free time when no one was around. Which was often. He wrote about a variety of things but his current task was a novel he was starting. 

Even if there wasn’t the silencing charm in the contract he still wouldn’t have talked about it. For some reason it felt all too personal. Not just on Potter’s end but his end as well and it was a difficult thing to process. A little crush that started in seventh year and continued on shortly after the war was maybe a small part of his problem on top of Potter’s behavior. 

“I went on the bloody date with him,” he finally said to the paper through clenched teeth. It had seemed like a fun enough idea at the time to bet against the witch over what he would be modeling during the upcoming photo shoot. Which just so happened to be a few weeks before a big muggle football game. She had predicted something themed around it in general while he had figured it would be team specific outfits. “Just like I agreed if I lost. We didn’t say anything about having to rehash details of the evening.” 

Pansy groaned. “You can’t be serious. Where is the fun in that? Was it that awful?” 

Draco shrugged and started writing again. “It isn’t my fault you weren’t specific enough in your conditions. Pretty sure I said what you had to do down to the bowtruckle leaf. Including legilimency should the memory be bad enough.” 

“Fine but that means it was either fucking traumatizing or you fucking liked it. See if I share anything personal with you again,” she threatened and Draco only shook his head at her response. The woman couldn’t keep a thing from him if she tried. After a week she would cave and vent to him like all the other times she had gotten her knickers in a twist over something he said or did. 

When the door slammed shut Draco casually looked over his shoulder with no expression and saw Pansy had indeed retreated to her room out of frustration. Letting his quill fall he dropped his head into his hands. Since his date with Potter he had been bothered almost constantly. While he had expected it to be a personal joke between him and the witch, some entertainment on his end, and admittedly satisfaction seeing and interacting with the man after years he hadn’t expected what he got at all. 

Sure Pansy had just been curious if he was a total bore and he was happy to find out. He wasn’t happy with, and hadn’t expected, what he had experienced at all. Yes Potter had been dull and did nothing but drink throughout the night, but it wasn’t because he was a bore. It was because he was truly miserable inside. They had been completely mistaken about the man over the last few years. 

Reading his mind had been an invasion of privacy, but in the moment Draco had been unable to help himself. Potter wasn’t acting like the man he had known at all. Although he may have thought it in his jealous confused youth the Gryffindor had never been the kind to get drunk off his arse and drag women into his bed. Especially after a night of practically no conversation or fun. It hadn’t been right and something had felt wrong with him.

He had been absolutely and completely shocked when he had seen Potter’s memories. The countless dates and disgusting interactions afterwards. The loathing feeling behind each one and the feeling of nothing as he laid on the floor of an old looking house all the time. Drinking to the point of borderline alcoholism. Arguments with Granger followed by bright neon flashing lights he knew to be clubs. Dancing, drugs, and shagging muggle men were the only times he looked, felt, completely free and happy. 

Draco shook his head. It was all disturbing, bothering and painful for him to keep going over in his head again and again. The man was miserable, thought it was shameful to be gay, and continued the fascade of those dates out of feelings of debt. 

Inside Draco knew why it bothered him. That crush still lingered on top of his general admiration of the man. It wasn’t right what he was going through and it hurt his heart personally knowing the suffocating feeling of depression. 

Draco rubbed the heel of his hands into his eyes forcing off the feelings. He didn’t know what he was going to do because apparently his brain couldn’t let it go. There was one thing he knew for certain though. Potter couldn’t keep whoring himself out and drinking his life away for some noble I owe the world bullshit now that he knew. 

XXXXXXX

From across the room it looked just like their dinner together. Although he hadn’t ever observed Potter’s dates it didn’t take more than a few seconds of studying their interaction to know the same thing was happening. This time though it seemed much more uncomfortable for the Gryffindor. 

Draco sipped his wine much too long just watching and pondering why. His main conclusion was the woman was pushy. On their date he himself had been very quiet and distant and Potter had seemed more than content with that. Granted he had still gotten drunk of course but that was just habit on these occasions. 

Pansy had watched Potter on a few occasions bring his dates to the Eternal Flame. Luckily flipping through the man’s memories he knew the other four locations he alternated between and that these dates were always on a Saturday. Tonight he had staked each one out for a little bit before moving on to the next and then doing a second go through. Eventually, as he expected, he found the raven haired man nestled into a corner booth.

For some reason he had decided to go as himself versus crossdressing and dolling himself up again. Thanks to some female muggle friends who had pushed him into modeling for a drag queen convention where the idea had stuck with him he was bloody brilliant at it. He only needed a few basic charms to soften some of his masculinity and he could easily pass off as a woman without recognition. Plus he may have grown to enjoy the time he did it. It had felt right and was more than a good time.

Tonight though he wanted to try and reach out to the man as himself. Obviously he liked blokes and maybe their natural chemistry would stir something up in him. He had recognized their natural draw to one another in their school days. Admittedly it was something he had enjoyed greatly. Whether the Gryffindor recognized their connection was another story. 

Potter’s date stood up and walked down the row of booths before turning around the far corner. Draco noticed how she didn’t take her handbag so the odds were she was making a trip to the loo. Straightening his tie one last time Draco decided it was now or never. The woman would return soon enough and he needed to feel Potter out. For what he didn’t know but he needed to see how he interacted with people that he wasn’t forced to interact with. Friends had been disturbingly lacking in her frontal memories. 

Walking slowly from his booth on the back wall Draco continued watching him carefully. Waiting until the man had a face full of his own wine before taking extra long strides to close the distance and casually slide into the seat across from him in one fluid movement. Potter spluttered and choked on his drink before managing to swallow from the shock. 

“Hello Potter,” Draco greeted him with a casual genuine smirk. Watching him in shock like that had been truly amusing. 

The Gryffindor narrowed his eyes and glared at him. Draco could practically see his hackles rising. “What the bloody hell do you think you are doing Malfoy?”

“I see. Not very friendly are we?” Draco asked rhetorically. 

“Go away,” he said simply, but with the hint of a threat beneath it. 

Draco winced dramatically. “Ouch. Why? Am I not enjoyable company? I’m sure I’m much more….” he hesitated his boldness only for a second. “...pleasurable. At least compared to your dates that is.” He wet his lips mostly in an effort to maintain his straight face. 

Potter stared at him. Probably trying to decide if there was actually an innuendo and restraining himself from throttling him. It felt lively to see that fire in him again. Even if it was mostly frustration, or maybe even hate fueled. That spark in his green eyes was catching.

“You know,” Draco continued before the man could tell him to go away again. “...we haven’t had a good time together since school.” They had only ever seen each other in random passing at Gringotts or another shop every few months since the end of his trial. 

Potter snorted at him but the clenched fist he had had since he sat down finally relaxed.. “Good time?” he repeated. 

“Mhmm,” Draco played off the question. “...we had quite some good fun don’t you think? All the banter, conflicts…..teasing.” He deliberately adjusted his legs so one foot softly brushed Potter’s calf. Thankfully they were both long legged which made it easy. Equally deliberately he slowly moved the nonexistent bangs to the side off his forehead. “Don’t you think?” 

“What in bloody hell makes you think I’d want to hang out with you? Hell fucking talk to you. We haven’t spoken in years,” Potter said emotionless, his hackles gone down. 

Draco shrugged pleased with the change of posture. “Then I’d say we are long overdue for a catch up don’t you think?”

“I think you’re fucking mental Malfoy,” the man stated without breaking eye contact and Draco raised an eyebrow in curiosity. It reminded him of those moments he would catch the Gryffindor staring at him from across the Great Hall or in class. 

“Nothing has changed then. Good to know. You’re still the insufferable impulsive brash oblivious noble Gryffindor you’ve always been,” Draco rubbed his lower lip with his forefinger and could almost hear the growl Potter was suppressing causing a corner of his mouth to turn upwards. “I like it.” 

With his words Potter visibly reeled back. His body language going from mildly defensive to taken off guard. The man finally seemed to sense, or accept, the fact he was flirting. 

Draco’s smile dropped a fraction when he noticed the woman that Potter had been sitting with exit the loo door. Smoothing out her dress before starting to head her way back. He wanted more time with the man. 

Making sure Potter saw he flicked his eyes back and forth from him to the woman. “I will talk to you later yea? I know you are just dying to get back to your wine. Oh, my apologies. I mean date.” 

Draco looked him up and down, causing a certain amount of arousal to stir. It was definitely fun interacting with him as himself still but Potter clearly didn’t know what to think. His jaw should have just been dropped open the way he was looking at him. Draco made it worse for the Gryffindor by winking at him before he got up from the table and left. No doubt leaving him still speechless and confused.

XXXXXXXXXX

Harry held the restaurant door open for Layla. The woman he had been spending time with tonight. She had made it sure he knew her name and was an active participant in their evening by rattling on nonstop. It had been a struggle to manage mentally and the last half of dinner had been made worse by the appearance of Malfoy. 

A few more people entered the doors and he motioned for the woman to go ahead without him so he could continue to hold the door open for them. Which he was grateful for. He needed a break from her talking and time to mentally prepare himself for the upcoming activities. Especially since he had been unable to properly maintain his buzz. 

Talking to Malfoy had made his stomach slightly upset and bothered him enough to have his mind constantly occupied. Instead he favored fidgeting with the stem of his glass, trying to look for where Malfoy had come from, and not visualise Layla as the Slytherin. Sitting there before him saying odd things that felt like flirting and stirred odd feelings up inside him. What made it worse was they felt familiar in more ways than one. 

Shaking his head as the last person walked out he took a deep breath and started to follow his date’s path just down towards the other side of the long building. It was half restaurant and half high end bar which made it an incredibly large place. Something he enjoyed as it kept everyone around them pretty occupied, eyes off of him, and the best alcohol available. Which he was regretting not drinking more of and he cursed Malfoy for it. 

Suddenly he was snatched by his arm and yanked backwards until he hit a body. Going for his wand he spun around. Anxiety rising up in him. “Oui. What the bloody hell is your…” 

His words died and the hand relaxed off his wand when his eyes met the face of the woman from a week ago. Or maybe it was two but she had a hold of his arm and had pulled him up close against her. Without the cloud of alcohol he was captured and thanks to earlier he realized why she had looked so different. Her slightly sharp features and those cloudy grey blue eyes reminded him of Malfoy. The realization had him letting out a stuttered breath. 

“Shove her off and let’s go,” she whispered and something about her tone had Harry tilting his head. Maybe to see if she was real. Unlike anyone else this woman had bothered him the day after their date, and he hadn’t been able to help comparing her to the following dates he had. There was just something about her that had him curious. Sure she was attractive for a female and maybe it was the horrid visuals of Malfoy now that plagued his mind, but it wasn’t what had him wanting to follow. It was something in her personality, and allure it carried. 

“Harry?” his date called from around the corner and Harry looked to the location and back to the female holding him. Her eyes were so focused and deep. Demanding and he noted how he still hadn’t pulled away from her. “Harry are you coming?” his date called again. 

The woman raised her eyebrows suggestively and Harry found his mouth opening and closing like he didn’t know what to say or do. “Uh….” he was seriously torn but he knew what was going to happen. It wasn’t like he had been horrible company tonight there was no dire need to provoke their contract further. 

“Come on Potter,” the woman whispered. “Go tell her Granger went into labor or the bloody Minister needs you or some nonsense. Let’s let that real lion loose.” 

Harry’s eyes widened unsure what that meant but catching the suggestive undertone. Maybe she was finally what he needed to end all of this. Maybe he could finally live with this one and be done with dates. Contracts. At least emotionally she got him interested enough to not want to be sick or run away. 

Mucking up the impulsive courage to go to his date and lie his arse off, not that he hadn’t thousands of times before at this point. He pulled away hesitantly and the woman nodded at him with a smug smile. Forcing himself away further he took off and rounded the corner, running the little bit down to where his date was waiting on him.

“Hey,” he started with a smile trying to appear his most charming. “I uh I’m sorry. I got a patronus from the Minister and he really needs me right now.” 

“It’s a Saturday night? Why would he possibly bother you?” she asked him with a sad frown. 

“It’s classified,” he said instantly. “Official auror business. They bring me in to consult and handle severe cases of dark magic since you know….” he trailed off hating to say his strengths but the woman looked at him expectantly. “...because I defeated one of the darkest wizards and….” Harry held up the palm of his hand and produced a small blue flame hovering above it. He’d always loved when Hermione made them and she had taught him while on their run that dreadful year together. 

The woman gasped in awe of his skill and Harry resisted cringing over her admiration. “Yes yes I understand,” she said. “I can’t even imagine what's horrible enough they are dealing with to need you. You would have made a brilliant auror.” 

“Thank you,” he said and he looked back to the corner wondering if the other woman was still there. He had heard that only the last seven years of his life. “I’m really sorry. Maybe we can talk with my manager and we can schedule another one. My treat?” he offered and his date smiled shyly as if flattered. 

“I’d like that Harry,” she said appreciatively. “Now go on and do your thing. Save the world,” and although she said it playfully he wanted to gag. She happily placed a kiss on his cheek though and he bowed his head in acknowledgement of her understanding. He almost believed himself. 

Turning he did actually run back down the alley and onwards. Nearly passing the blond woman who had taken to leaning on the restaurant wall causing him to halt and walk backwards. Now that he was facing her again he didn’t know what to do besides wait for her to decide since she seemed to be the confident and bold one. 

This time she was wearing a peachy colored high necked button up blouse that blended beautifully with her pale skin tone and light blond hair that fell onto her chest. Her skirt, which apparently were her bottoms of choice, was a shorter mid thigh loose gray one that reminded him of muggle school girl skirts. It was a good look on her he decided before starting to question how she had spotted him there. None of his previous dates ever sought him out, granted most of them left mad at him. Then again he thought she had granted he had been very drunk that night. 

The woman leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. Briefly he debated what the hell he was doing until she started moving them against his mouth. When she pulled them flush and nothing obstructed the area between them he finally fell into the kiss a little more relaxed. It felt more natural for once. 

She draped her arms around his neck and took to snogging him slowly. Drawing out her kisses so he could feel it all. In an effort to distract himself as she enjoyed herself at his own expense he ran a hand up her side. This time she didn’t push him away like she had in his flat that night. He gripped tightly right beneath her arm pit in both confusion and excitement as he felt nothing the entire way up. Small breasts and no bra were always the best and made it easier for him to pretend they were one of his muggle shags. 

She pulled on his lip with her teeth but let go and pulled away. Long arms still wrapped around his neck and a smirk on her face when he opened his eyes. “That’s what I thought,” she said confidently and Harry just blinked at her. What was he getting himself into?


	3. Malfoy

When Harry heard the small crack of apparation he broke the snogging they had resumed and swung them around the corner back into the alley. He was starting to get caught up in the heat of it as visuals swarmed his mind. Hearing the sound though reminded him it wouldn't do to get caught by the press snogging some woman so publicly. Hardly even looking at her he apparated them to his flat building. 

When they landed the woman stumbled forward laughing. “Warning next time Potter.” It was a sweet sound to hear her deep warm laugh. She hadn’t done it on their date. 

Once again he grabbed her hand and began dragging her through the doors but she practically flew along with him unlike the first time. He took them into the elevator instead of the stairs. For some reason all he wanted to do was start snogging her again. When she talked it was rushing. 

Unlike the hesitantence of their last date she let herself be pushed up against the back elevator wall. Her hands ran through his hair as he took to kissing the corners of her mouth. Trailing along her strong jaw line until he made it beneath her hair and behind her ear, causing her to giggle. 

Just then the door opened and Harry looked at it torn between snogging and his flat but then decided this was one of the rare opportunities he could probably get it up enough to fuck. Then who knows what could happen. Perhaps they could develop a relationship and he could be free of all the horrible outings and depressing crashes afterwards. “Let’s go,” he said nodding towards his room. 

She merely smiled at him and holding her hand again he led her inside. When they were briefly he hesitated on actually going through with it but the woman took matters into her own hands turning him around and pulling him back against her again. Apparently she liked control in bed. He could handle that for this. 

Harry allowed her to rub up and down his chest, skating over his nipples. Kissing and sucking at his neck until he leaned into it and she moved to capture his lips again. Placing his hands on her narrow hips to maintain some form of control he went to lose himself in his mind again. When he did though she let out a throaty chuckle and pushed past his hold on her to grind herself up against his pelvis. 

The second she did he pulled away with a gasp. Blood rushing through his ears and filling his cock with instant excitement. He looked down and back up to those pale eyes that were shimmering with something like mischief. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and ground herself against him again. Making no mistake to let him feel what she had hidden beneath her skirt. 

“What?” Harry looked down confused, swallowing thickly. He wished he was drunk to have a valid reason to imagine such a thing. 

Running a finger down his neck and letting it rest in the collar of his shirt she kissed him lightly and teasingly. “It's called a cock Potter. I thought you might like it,” her voice was heavy and husky. 

“Why do you keep calling me Potter? Hardly anyone calls me that,” he asked blankly forgoing the fact this woman had a cock and was rubbing up against him with it. 

She grinned. “I've always call you that you prat. Along with many choice words and those nicknames you hate. Golden Boy, Chosen One, Scarhead….Potty” she whispered hotly in his ear. 

Harry let out a shaky breath. “No,” he said, not wanting to believe it. 

She nodded her head with a smile. “Oh yes Potter. I’ll call you whatever you want though…..Harry,” she said with emphasis. “...whatever you want.”

“Prove it,” he challenged and he panicked when the so-called witch pulled out her wand, afraid of what she would do. 

All she did was place it to her hair and it instantly began to shorten. Long locks shrinking over a second to that of a short style that was distinctively Malfoy. His eyes widened as the wand moved below her chin and the full contrast of defining highlights in her cheeks vanished revealing the normal pale cheeks. Her lips melted away to a natural pink instead of the more vibrant kind. Long eyelashes losing their firm upward position from mascara until he was only left with the undeniable face of Draco Malfoy. 

“Malfoy?” he said more to himself as he blinked in disbelief

“Mhmm. Told you I'd see you soon,” Malfoy said kissing him as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Harry felt himself going from the state of semi hard due to feeling what he thought was cock to a full blown erection knowing it was true. 

“Bloody fucking hell,” Harry whispered against Malfoys lips as he squeezed his cock through his trousers. He shouldn't be hard from Malfoy. A wizard. Especially from a Malfoy that was wearing a skirt. “I don’t know which one you are more of. Wasted or mental.” 

Malfoy cocked his head and pulled at his wrists to place them on his chest where there was indeed an absence of breasts. Harry stared at his hands absorbing the fact she was a he and he was Malfoy. He didn’t know how he felt about it but he knew what he should feel about it. What he should do and what he wanted to do.

“Well,” Malfoy dragged out. “...it was quite torturing watching you with that woman all damn evening and you took for fucking ever. So I may have over indulged in my wine…..” he wrapped his arms back around his neck and leaned in whispering so confidently. “...but I’m definitely more mental than drunk.”

Harry tried squeezing his cock again to rein himself in and think about the whole mountain of wrong in this situation but when Malfoy started snogging him it was like a flood gate opened of adrenaline. He grabbed the sides of the man’s head and started attacking him like something he had been denied. There was no denying now that Malfoy had indeed been attempting to flirt with him at the restaurant. Something he had convinced himself wasn’t true. Knowing it was intoxicating all on it’s own and he didn’t need alcohol to feel some crazy desire. 

Malfoy started tugging at the hem of his shirt. Playing with the waistband of his trousers, skimming his fingers along his stomach and happily letting him have his way. Harry was unable to stop himself from reaching up under the man’s skirt in excitement as if he needed further proof the situation was real. When his hand groped the hardened contained bulge he restrained himself from holding it tightly even though he wanted to. The man wasn’t just real but he was also wearing lace knickers . For some reason it was insanely hot. 

“Knickers?” Harry asked, continuing to rub at his cock through them while his own was trying to rip his trousers open.

“If I’m going to go for it I’m going all in. It’s called dedication Pott….Harry.” Malfoy drawled, encouraging him backwards and he willingly went until they tumbled onto the unused bed. One in all his time doing this, had only used maybe a dozen times at the most. 

Malfoy climbed on top of him, straddling his hips while they continued to snog. He couldn’t take the man being in such a position, or himself even being in the position to begin with anymore. In a moment of impulse he undid his trousers and his cock sprang free. Sighing in relief when he felt the fresh air hit him he only hissed at the surprised sensation of it smacking against skin. 

“It’s called a thong Harry,” Malfoy told him like he didn’t know what it was. “I quite like them.” The man admitted it like it was as hot as he couldn’t admit it was.

With all self control he had left he withheld himself from grabbing the man’s ass and simply getting off between his cheeks. The subtle scratch of clothing would cause that little amount of pain he liked. Sadly he didn’t get that opportunity as Malfoy sat up.

Wiggling around and sticking a hand behind himself Harry watched in fascination as the blond closed his eyes. He knew what he was doing. The blond rocked back a few times and he just watched as he did it until the man moaned and the head of his cock bumped against the hand nestled in his ass where he was fingering himself. Instead of doing what he wanted to which was bat it out of the way and just start fucking him he lifted up the man’s skirt revealing his dark purple knickers barely keeping his pale swollen cock inside. 

He spread his hands around the bulge, absorbing the sight before pulling them down and taking the freed length into his fist. Stroking it until seconds later Malfoy batted him away. “No no. We are going to do this my way,” the blond said and looked down at him. Maintaining eye contact as he spit in his own hand. 

Harry thought the man was going to start fingering himself again when he reached back around his body, but instead he grabbed his cock and guided it to his hole. His throat tightened feeling the puckered opening of Malfoys ass and he withheld the strangled choke that wanted to escape him as it entered it. Squeezing his eyes shut he let the tight heat encase him without moving. If he moved or even looked he was going to let himself loose before the blond was ready. 

For a few seconds Malfoy quit sinking painfully slowly onto him. When he looked to see what he was doing he was met with the pale grey eyes and evil smirk. The man dropped the rest of his body weight down so he was fully sitting on his cock. Harry lurched upwards with a gasp at the overwhelming feeling. 

Malfoy had the audacity to laugh and in retaliation he instantly thrust up. Seeing the man’s cock bobbing up and down from under the skirt grabbed his attention. He didn’t know why that was so arousing but he wanted to see it do it again and again until it was coming all over it. The idea caused him to thrust up again. 

“Woahhhhh,” Malfoy moaned instead of stopping him. Acting like he was a thestral that could be reined in. “Woah there Potter.” 

Harry gripped the blond’s thigh tightly to control himself since it was a way of telling him to take it easy. His eyes flickered from the man’s pelvis to his face. He was horribly fucking beautiful like this and he just wanted to shag the man senseless. It was Malfoy after all. If he was going to shag him it had to be rough. He went to roll them over to do so but Malfoy put his hands on his chest stopping him. Sliding up his shaft a little in doing so before sliding back down. It caused a whine to escape Harry for either being denied the option or from the amazing sensation.

“I got you,” Malfoy whispered and Harry mutely nodded in hurried anticipation. Not knowing why he was believing the blond. Not knowing why he was doing any of this but enjoying it regardless and he wanted to see what the man was going to do.When the man started moving on his cock though any concern he had left him. 

Malfoy was riding him with the enthusiasm of a selfish prick hell bent on getting what he wanted and he was doing a hell of a job of it. His face was extra sharp from this angle and his eyebrows were knitted together in focus as he bounced up and down on him. Skirt flapping up and down with the air getting under it. The precum leaking from his cock shimmering against the dark contrast in the background of it. 

Harry grabbed his arse and encouraged him up and down harder. Meeting him each time he came down with a thrust of his own that sent him sliding back up causing the man to mewl each time until they were both breathless and frantic. In the moment he thought he could fuck Malfoy forever if he stayed like this.

The man’s body clenched around him signaling his oncoming orgasm, and he went to take hold of Malfoy’s cock to finish him off but he was too late. He just watched in fascination as the blond cried out and rocked heavily against him, completely nestled in the depths of his channel. Creamy liquid spurted onto his own dress shirt, a small amount getting stuck on the edge of the man’s skirt. Harry held onto him tightly keeping him in place as he continued to move inside him. Each time he knew he was rubbing against the man’s prostate because a pitiful whine was made from the overstimulation.

With his mouth dropping open for more oxygen and so he wouldn’t show how much he also wanted to cry out, his eyes stayed fixated on Malfoy’s face as he started coming inside him. Grinding the man against himself even harder and Malfoy let him continue doing it. Swaying with movement as he used his loosened hole like it had been more than a week since he had shagged someone. Coming and begging himself not to grunt or show too much interest until he was completely spent and drained of energy. 

When he stopped moving the man and just laid there looking at everything from the come on his body to his hands on Malfoy’s hips, to the man’s blissful face before he sadly rolled off of him. Harry winced not at the absence of heat but at the feeling of loss. That wasn’t a good thing, but there was always something about Malfoy that had him following him and having seen him in this position, this state of freedom and control. Happiness and pleasure. All from him? Harry didn’t want him to go. 

That wasn’t a good feeling or thoughts to have and his heart rate started increasing again in a panic because of it. Panting slightly still Harry looked over at the blond. At Malfoy. He couldn't believe it and didn't want to believe it. He couldn’t allow himself to think about it. Especially didn’t want to think about how he didn't feel disgusted with himself. Didn't feel the need to shower. Instead he was feeling things he shouldn’t. He had shagged a wizard. Malfoy.

Reaching into his rumpled trouser pocket Harry pulled out a bag, pausing to make sure Malfoy was still laying there. The blond appeared to be falling asleep. Apparently he had had more to drink than he had indicated. Still not wanting to accept it he took two pills out of the bag. Enough to knock him out and not have to think about the consequences of what he had done. It felt too good and right to let panic set in right now. He would deal with it tomorrow. 

XXXXXXXXXX

When Harry woke up he woke up to a long arm draped over his side. Holding him lightly. A warm body snuggled up against his back and the slow shallow puffs of air hitting his neck. Reality crashing in on him instead of the heavy hangover of a normal Sunday morning. It caused him to squirm. The panic from last night started to settle in with the drugs having worn off. 

“Will you quit bloody moving? I'm trying to sleep here,” Malfoy grumbled, pulling him closer and Harry felt his heart jump in his chest causing him to pull away roughly and elbow the man to get him off. 

“Oww! Fucking hell Potter you prick,” Malfoy complained rolling onto his back and rubbing at his ribs forcing his eyes open. 

Harry righted his pants and trousers and grabbed his wand from the floor. Either he needed out or Malfoy needed out. Then he slowed with the idea of oblivation coming to his mind. He could obliviate him couldn’t he? He had the ability to cast the unforgivables surely he could wipe a simple memory. Granted he wasn’t as good as Hermione was at it. His chest rose and fell trying to decide what to do. 

“Would you quit freaking out already?” he heard Malfoy say and he spun around on him to see the man sitting up finally with the covers thrown off him. Rumpled shirt and messed up skirt around his upper thighs. Appearing completely content and unbothered by the situation. 

“We shagged!” he stated loudly like the blond was dumb. How could he not be at least regretting it? 

Malfoy adjusted himself and shifted on the bed. Looking to the ceiling as if he needed to process it finally but he met his gaze again just the same. “Yes I am very aware of that Potter,” he said simply. 

Harry frowned angrily at him. “What the hell is your problem? Why aren’t you mad? Cursing me? Sneering? We’ve hardly seen each other since the trials and I’m not even sure I’ve talked to you since then. We hate each other and we’re blokes. How is any of that okay? Get out!” he spouted in frustration as the desire to flee increased again. 

“Well first off I’d have thought my flirting would have shown the contrary,” Malfoy trailed off to a mumble that seemed vulnerable. 

“What? That you like me or some shite?” Harry asked sarcastically and he reeled back with a distasteful look when Malfoy shrugged without denying it. He didn’t like that response. It was bothersome. 

“Then…” Malfoy continued on with stronger words again. “I’m not sure what being blokes has anything to do with it considering we’re both gay.” 

“I’m not gay,” Harry claimed as passionately as he could but Malfoy looked at him unimpressed at the lie. 

“You snogged me silly and your cock was in my arse last night Potter. From what I remember you quite enjoyed yourself,” and a satisfied grin developed on his face. He smoothed out the skirt back down his legs as much as he could without getting up. “Pretty good shag I’d say. I know I sure got off on it,” and the man raised his eyebrows suggestively. 

Harry clenched his fist in anger trying not to visibly shake. “It was a mistake,” he said tightly. 

“Are the male muggles a mistake also?” Malfoy asked simply. 

What could the blond possibly know? It had been years and no one had ever discovered where he went thanks to the aid of his cloak. Suddenly he felt his own eyes widen and as he stared deeply into the Slytherin’s. The same eyes the woman had sucked him in with that night before she left. Before she left him dizzy or the floor replaying memories. Because she and he were the same person and that was…..

“You read my mind?” he breathed, connecting the dots. “You absolute piece of shit! How dare you!” He closed the space between them with his wand pressed against the man’s temple. Malfoy only smacked it away the second it touched him. Standing with his own anger finally sparked meeting him nose for nose and it felt like old familiar days.

“Well if you hadn't been a complete uncontrollable git hell bent on proving something and acting like some disgusting arsehole I wouldn't have felt the need to!” the man shouted. 

“I have nothing to prove,” Harry said with almost enough confidence to believe it himself. 

“You sure as hell seem to think so. I don’t get what is fucking wrong with you. You aren’t acting like the man I know!” Malfoy claimed like he knew anything. Knew about him and his life. What he wanted and didn’t.

“You don't know who the fuck I am Malfoy!” Harry shouted back at him.

Draco scoffed with that familiar sneer. “I know enough to know something is wrong with you. I watched you as much as you watched me Potter. Don't take me for a fool. I know your normal behavior. I know at least half the little ticks you have like running your hand through that mess on your head when you're anxious and clenching your left hand when your mad just like,” he gestured to his hand. “...that. I know enough to know what you are pretending to be is based on an irrational feeling of debt and responsibility. Some stupid need to support the weight of the wizarding world and the almighty role model they have made you to be despite your absolute loathing of it….” 

“You only know what you saw,” Harry spat. 

“Oh you mean the scam known as dates? Whoring yourself out and shagging muggles to feel? Getting drunk of your arse and doing what I assume are drugs? Whatever those small things you bought and swallowed were. Considering how dizzy and loose you were afterwards they do something to you….” 

Harry punched him in the jaw, satisfied feeling the pain in his hand as it hit bone, but to his surprise the blond didn’t fall. He only narrowed his eyes at him dangerously. Not knowing what else to do and feeling like he could just sink into the ground a cry for everything wrong he had done in his life he disapparated on spot breaking his wards and fleeing the unwavering confrontation of Malfoy. 

XXXXXXXXX

“I slept with a wizard Ron!” Harry confessed pacing in front of his fireplace. He had spent the better half of the day holed up in the shower pretending he wasn’t having the hardest meltdown he had had since starting the stupid charity dating. Malfoy was right. It was a scam and he was gay. He was miserable, depressed, and wasting away his life for everyone else. For the wizard world. Bleeding out slowly when he wished he could just be done with life so it would end. 

The redhead just looked at him with no interest. “Okay?” Ron dragged out dramatically. 

He turned on the redhead. “Ron!” he said desperately and in that moment he nearly told him who it was. No one ever had cared he was gay and he didn’t understand it. The Dursleys had made sure it was clear shirt lifters were unnatural abominations and Mr.Clarke had explained the reasonings why no gay person could or should be a leading role model. Gay idols and inspirational people didn’t exist and were no no good for society.

Ron sat down his cup of tea on the side table and took a deep breath. Years of being an auror and that year together with Hermione having helped him with learning to control his emotions, which at the moment Harry hated. “What do you want me to say?” he asked. “Bad Harry? Go sit in the corner? You know I don’t like to be involved with this.” 

“Well who else am I supposed to talk to about this?” Harry asked. He didn’t see any of his old friends anymore. Instead he hid away inside Grimmauld when he wasn’t making a speech, going on a date, or being in the muggle world. He had considered moving there briefly but no matter his troubles he couldn't imagine living a life without casual magic. “I dont know what to do!” he said in a high pitched panicked voice. 

“Umm….it’s about noon,” he scratched at his ear and looked around the dark depressing room. Harry never tried to do anything but sulk in it and it showed. “Grab a bite to eat and watch some telly? You know. Normal stuff.” 

Harry grabbed his head, pulling at his hair and trying to shake the persistent thoughts out of his head. He needed to be told it was wrong again. That it wasn’t okay and he definitely couldn’t shag wizards. People could find out about a wizard easily especially if they talked, and Malfoy would be one to talk. Flaunting it out that he shagged the Chosen One to destroy him. Like he had tried so many times in school. It didn’t matter that he had seemed different during their date and last night. He felt his chest starting to tighten like his lungs had no room to expand. 

“This. This...” the redhead said loudly to get his attention and gestured at him. “...this is why Hermione quit coming around. Don’t you miss her?” Ron asked. “Us? I can’t take this anymore Harry and I’m almost done too. Why do you have to act like this is the worst thing in the bloody world? Who cares if you shagged a wizard!” 

“Uh the world,” Harry answered. “What happens when they find out? Gay boy who lived plastered around the globe. Can we trust anything he has ever said or done? What kind of sick wizard can we rely on when he wants to do such unnatural things? Is it any better than splitting your soul and making horcruxes?” 

For a second Ron just stared at him and Harry wondered if he would just walk out. “I’m not having this conversation with you anymore,” he said flatly sitting back down. “Okay you panicked and needed to vent. It’s over. Do what you want. We aren’t talking about this anymore.” 

“Why can’t you…” Harry started in desperate search of hurtful words. He didn’t know why he sought them out but he did. Once they had been put in his head they had been unable to get out. 

“You’re the problem Harry!” Ron shouted at him pushing the tower of take away boxes over onto the floor in more familiar redheaded anger. “Not me, not Hermione, no one else. You! You are the one that apparently likes living in the closet or whatever Hermione said it was. She tried so hard to tell you it was okay and normal but no. All of us tried at one point. You have something fucked up in your head telling you otherwise. I don’t know what it is but you need to figure it out before you waste your bloody life away and I can’t handle it anymore. I don’t care what you decide to do with your cock Harry. Now either we are going to fucking watch the telly and talk about Neville’s new baby, how you should be grateful you aren’t a bloody auror, or I’m leaving.” 

Harry pulled at his hair one last time and threw himself down onto the sofa beside him letting his head hit the hard wooden edge of the back, being glad he had chosen not to buy new furniture. Instead putting all his money into a variety of other things. Ron was one of the only friends he saw anymore and what good would that do to lose him. “What did they name him?” he asked in defeat. 


	4. What Am I Doing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well this chapter ended up quite long…...Draco wouldn’t shut up for me. Hope you enjoy it though. It may just be my favorite one.
> 
> Also no copyright is intended. Eat Cake By the Ocean fully belongs to DNCE. I cut out over half and I hope that is enough for AO3 to be okay with it. I highly recommend it as a fun upbeat song and just love that bit. Hope yall do too!

“It’s none of your concern!” he shouted at Pansy as she cornered him in the kitchen. Of course he could easily have pushed past her but he wouldn't go that far. He didn’t like to duel and fight or get into drama anymore. Pushing her would at least get him a good hex and drama from the only person he had to frequently deal with in his life.

“It damn well is when you’ve taken to being gone all the bloody time,” Pansy shouted back. “...and you’re as moody as a pregnant witch. What are you doing? If it’s something stupid I’m going to fucking kill you you prat! We have had things easy since the war and I’m not going to have you fucking that up.” 

Draco groaned in frustration. It had been nearly a month since he slept with Harry, because he had already become Harry in his mind that night. He was filled with a handful of different emotions that had him question what on earth he was even doing anymore. Obsessing and borderline stalking is what he was doing. 

Pansy crossed her arms. “Tell me where you are going. You’ve been getting dressed to go out every Friday and Saturday for a month. You come home at odd hours in a foul mood. You mope all week. You come home from work angry. What in the bloody hell is going on with you?” 

“I'm fine. I'm dealing with some things alright! I'm just stressed,” he told her. It was the truth after all. 

“Don't even try that crap with me Draco,” she said angrily. “Are you dating a co worker? If you get fired….” 

“I have plenty of savings if I get fired so don't worry about it woman!” he snapped. His job he couldn’t get fired anyways. All the shoots he did were independent and he had no sole boss.The only thing that could happen was him turning down jobs or not being hired for any. 

“Well you need to get whatever this is you're dealing with sorted the fuck out because I'm done putting up with it,” she warned him. “If I wanted to deal with this I'd have moved in with fucking Daphne.” 

Draco bit his lips together and looked around the kitchen frustrated wanting to smash something. Ideally the stupid white and yellow abstract thing called art Pansy had insisted they hang on the wall. He didn’t know what to do or what he could say that wouldn’t open a whole world of conversation that he didn’t want to have. Much to his luck the witch let it drop after a minute of silence. 

“Handle it Draco. Now,” she said firmly with a dangerous undertone making it clear he needed to or things would only be worse if he continued on as he was. 

When she finally left the doorway Draco slumped against the cabinets. She had a point. He needed to figure out what he wanted to do as soon as possible. Was he going to try talking to Harry again? Was he going to let it go and chalk it up to not his life not his problem? Just sit back knowing what the man was doing to himself and how miserable he was? Harry deserved happiness. 

Then what? How was he even going to go about it if he wanted to when the man wouldn’t even admit he was gay? Poking and prodding a lion was a dangerous game. What did he have to gain from it? He shook his head realizing nothing. None of it was of any benefit to him except emotionally and even then it was just knowing he had finally done something to help the man. Someone that loathed him. 

Draco nodded convincing himself. At least it was Friday again. Tonight he would decide what he wanted to do and how to handle it. He would watch, mull, analyze, plan, and act. Either to save himself the trouble and emotional growth towards the man he had further developed or to put himself through a ringer asking for all of the former. Neither sounded like a good idea.

XXXXXXXX

He had visited the club each week for the last month instead of his normal every other Friday. He was going mad, or at least madder than he had been, and it was because of Malfoy. It at least felt like he was being stalked. He supposed it was a form of payback for all sixth year he had been obsessively stalking the blond himself. 

On every date he could feel his presence. Whether it was subconscious or not he wasn't entirely sure but it was always there lingering. There were many times he thought he had spotted that head of blond hair sitting in a corner or among the crowd in his visit to his favorite muggle club. Granted he was pretty high at the time. 

Once though he was certain he saw Malfoy standing across the street leaning against the wall watching him exit the restaurant. Maybe he was even outside his flat building when he had taken the witches home. All he could ever think about was that night with him. Things the man had said, done, and now what he knew of him. Surprisingly the press had yet to out him and each day had been spent in a state of dread.

Tonight though it was no imagination. If the blond had been stalking him he wasn’t trying to hide it this time. He knew because the Slytherin had walked straight into the club as himself hardly more than ten minutes behind him. His first Black Velvet only half gone.

They had made eye contact in seconds after Malfoy did his first glance around the dance floor and then bar. When they did the man seemed to straighten himself taller before walking across the bar from him to order his own drink. First he was slightly worried he would indeed sit across from him. Forcing him into a staring contest since he wasn’t even going to get up until his muggle provider showed up. With the blond here he was already considering buying double his normal amount of ecstasy. 

It was worse than that though when the man actually picked up his drink and walked over to him instead. Having the nerve to actually sit down beside him. Harry noted the simple gin and tonic he had gotten and tried to appear unbothered by his proximity. The fact he had the gall to come up to him was either irritating or arousing. He couldn’t pick out which.

“Stalking me Malfoy?” Harry said plainly, making sure his increased heart rate wasn't noticed. 

The blond chuckled. “Takes a stalker to know one I suppose. Besides. I hardly count being at the same restaurant as you once a week stalking.” 

Harry turned to look at him directly and when he did Malfoy winked. He had felt paranoid and on edge. Disturbed and anxious. Furious and uneasy is what he should be feeling now. Yet knowing the man’s eyes had constantly been following actually had his skin tingling instead. 

“What about the same muggle club then?” Harry asked. “What are the odds of that one?” 

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “You told me about it and I thought I'd check it out. Even if not willingly of course, but it looked like fun.” 

Harry glared at him from the corner of his eye knowing what he had seen in his memories. He tugged his light blue jumper sleeve further down his forearm for distraction and debated going to another club after his score. There were a few others but this was his favorite. They would do though. “You hate muggles.” 

“I hated muggles,” Malfoy corrected him. “Big difference. If I hated them I wouldn’t be working with them now would I?”

“Working with them?’ Harry asked in a voice of disbelief. He could hardly imagine the bloke working with muggles but then again he could hardly imagine what was happening with him to begin with. “Draco Malfoy. What could you possibly be doing that has you working with muggles?” 

“Well…” the man started before stopping for a sip of his cocktail. “I started off at a muggle library. Now I do modeling for their magazines and posters.”

Harry made another face of disbelief. “What….” A tap on his shoulder took his attention and a muggle with dark brown hair in a black jumper with a signature KISS logo on it nodded to the dance floor. He turned back to Malfoy with a far too happy smile. “Well it’s been a lovely time Malfoy but it appears I have a dance.” 

Eagerly he got up from his seat leaving a half empty drink behind him in favor of following the muggle out onto the dance floor. They always had a dance together when the floor was crowded and in a fast beat where everyone was frankly dancing around like, well, drunk people. It was easier and more subtle to make the exchange pressed close together. Sometimes in each other’s embrace creating the illusion of typical fondness when in reality the fondness was for money and a bag full of fun. 

When he had it stowed away nicely in his pocket the muggle kissed his cheek as always before parting towards the end of the song. Trying to forget about Malfoy Harry looked around him as bodies parted from the floor and others came onto it. There were a few men that were his usual casual shag but he was always open to someone new. It created the feeling of variety he didn’t have in his life. Sure each witch was different but it wasn’t in a good way. The muggle men? They were a good way. 

Spotting Frank across the pub chatting up his mates. Maybe he would just wait for the man to come to the dance floor. It was where they usually found each other. While he waited though and as the music started up again he couldn’t help but find his eyes drawn back to Malfoy. That action was regretted as a sense of unease settled in him as the blonds eyes twinkled with something mischievous like they always seemed to. Instantly he knew he should have left for the other pub but there was something that kept him in place. 

_No, no. Oh, no_ suddenly boomed through the noise of the crowd. Malfoy was shaking his head in agreement with the words causing Harry shaking his own hoping he would leave him alone. Maybe he was just stubborn, or it felt like a challenge. Maybe it was because it was Malfoy and the man had plagued his mind all month. He just knew what the blond was going to do though and this was going to end badly for him.

The stupid git wasn’t going to leave him alone. Torturing him had always been the Slytherins' speciality. Practically his bloody hobby. Working his way under his skin and setting him on fire. Yet that sounded like something he wanted. He never got that feeling anymore. 

_....don't you tiptoe. Tiptoe, ah._ Malfoy winked at him. Tossing back what appeared to be his same drink and sitting it on the counter top he stood up. Smoothing down his own dark grey jumper.

 _Don't waste time with a masterpiece._ It was terrifying to watch the blond advance on him so slowly from across the dance floor. Teasingly. Based on what the bloke had already done to him in the course of a month he swallowed thickly full of unshown nerves. 

_You should be rolling with me. You should be rolling with me, ah._ Then just like that Malfoy was beside him rolling his body like a wave up against him. Harry reached into his pocket quickly and squeezed at the pills in it with his hand. Any other time he would have swallowed them already. Got a good high going and started enjoying himself to the fullest with no holding back.

_You're a real-life fantasy._

_But you're moving so carefully._ This was Malfoy though. He had to keep moving carefully. In the magical world he was a real life fantasy. Getting high with Malfoy screamed a bad idea. Almost as bad as shagging him in the first place.

_Let's start living dangerously_ , and Harry shivered when he felt Malfoy's arse brush against his crotch when he ground back against him. His brain almost fizzled out in that moment trying to prevent his cock from rapidly growing. Harry wondered whether this confidence he danced with was coming from the three shots the blond had consumed, which was honestly unlikely, or if it was just how the man was. It's not like he had kept tabs on the Slytherins emotional development into adulthood or knew his hobbies. Maybe he took bloody dance lessons with the muggles for all he knew. 

_Talk to me, baby. I'm going blind from this sweet-sweet craving._ He felt like he was going blind alright. He was going blind from the way the blond moved his hips and wiggled his body in one continual fluid move. It was taking all his mental and physical strength not to grab him and do something to him. He didn't know what. Snog. Punch. Ravish. With him Harry figured they were all practically the same thing and fighting almost seemed like foreplay in his mind as school day memories flashed before his eyes.

_Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy. Ah ya ya ya ya. I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean._ Goddamn. Malfoy picked up his hand and he actually let him. The blond rubbed it down his firm chest stopping mid stomach wave before bringing it up to his face to lean into. 

_See you licking frosting from your own hands. Want another taste..._

“What are you doing Malfoy?” Harry breathed with no emotion. The moment felt surreal and unlike the other times they had come in contact which were full of intense feelings. He just didn't know what to feel this time as the man dropped his hand that he had just pretended to lick. Malfoy only winked at him and continued to dance against him.

_You should be rolling with me, ah. You're a real-life fantasy. You're a real-life fantasy, but you're moving so carefully. Let's start living dangerously, whoah…_

“Living dangerously,” Malfoy said, circling around him with the music. The man narrowed his eyes with a smirk when he faced him directly again. _“Talk to me baby_.”

_I'm going blind from this sweet craving ah ya. Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy._ That was exactly how Harry felt. Like he was actually going fucking crazy. It was the only explanation for shagging Malfoy. Snogging him. Finding him appealing in more ways than one. Letting him grind up against his crotch, holding his sides while he just continued to stand there in mild disbelief.

_I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean... and_ all he could think of now was Malfoy laying on his side in the sand. Leg propped up carelessly like that morning on his bed. Except the sun shining against his pale skin. A fork full of cake slipping into that mouth of his causing the smirk to fall away for a second.

The image he had created was stuck in his head. Even as Malfoy moved before him in his fully clothed attire. Of course Malfoy would wear a full outfit to a bar while everyone else had short sleeves or tank tops on. In some cases no shirt at all.

_Ah ya ya ya ya. I keep hoping...._ Hoping Malfoy would take his shirt off already as a little frustration coursed through him as the traitorous thought crossed his mind. 

_You're fucking delicious,_ and with those words Malfoy opened his mouth in a downright dirty move like he wanted to taste him. It caused Harry to ache in every muscle and his cock twitch with desire. _I'm going blind from this sweet-sweet craving. Whoa-oh. Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy._

“ _Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy_ ,” Draco whispered more than sang leaning in closer to his face but just as quickly though he moved back with the beat. Harry wasn’t sure if he felt relief or loss.

Draco just continued to sway with the music more lazily than before as he seemed to know the song was ending. He had to know the song because he danced so perfectly to it. Predicting hard down beats and quicker notes. 

“ _Walk for me, baby, walk for me now_ ,” he said with the lyrics and Harry felt a lurch in his heart. Why did he want to do what the lyrics said? Was it because Malfoy was the one saying them?

“ _Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy_ ,” the blond sang. “ _Ah ya ya ya ya, I keep on hoping. We'll eat cake by the ocean. Red velvet, vanilla, chocolate in my life. Confetti, I'm ready, I need it every night_.” Harry thought he was going to pass out from holding his breath as he let Malfoy drag a finger down the side of his face to the corner of his mouth. 

“ _Red velvet, vanilla, chocolate in my life. Ah ya ya ya ya I keep on hoping_ ,” and with the last words the blond was practically touching his lips with his. “ _We'll eat cake by the ocean_.” Then Malfoy’s lips were finally on his and it felt like a warm breath of fresh air when he kissed him. Dreaded anticipation spilling over into sweet relief. 

Harry went to hold onto the man’s slowly stilling hips as they kissed. As soon as they touched him though the blond broke apart instead choosing to lean their foreheads together. Oddly enough it felt comforting. 

“Go fucking crazy with me Potter,” Malfoy challenged him quietly in a lust filled tone. Or maybe it was merely asking him. Either way he wanted to.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The sound of skin slapping skin had Harry wondering what on earth he was doing. Each echo vibrating through his skin though was telling him he knew exactly what he was doing. He was doing Malfoy's tight little arse. Slamming into him again and again as his cock ached for more and the blond whimpered beneath him. 

Harry hoped the man would cry out loud enough the muggles in the next room would hear him. He had used this hotel many times and he found it rushing without a silencing spell. Not fearing or caring if they got caught fucking like animals. This was the muggle world and he was free. 

Each thrust drove Malfoy deeper into the used mattress and Harry wondered if the man could smell all the sex that had happened here or if he could even breathe enough to make louder noises. The idea he might not be able to fueled him even more with excitement because they both were enjoying the brutal roughness of it. Malfoy just kept pushing his ass back for more and more to meet him. It was exhilarating. 

So he gave it to him. Harder and harder until he held onto the man’s shoulder to thrust into him ruthlessly. Grunting from all the power he was putting into it. Taking his pleasure from him as Malfoy forced his face free of the duvet and came with that loud mewling cry he had hoped for. Hole clenching tightly around his cock but he pushed through it with determination to both see out the blond’s pleasure and to have every drop of his seed coating the man’s soft inner walls with himself. He was going to take Malfoy for all he could as long as he was giving it. His teasing and surprisingly desirable ass he didn’t know he needed all for himself. 

Gasping as he started to come he leaned over to mount the man. Rubbing his pelvis roughly against Malfoy’s firm ass. Staying full seated and flexing his fingers around the cuff of his shoulder. Knowing the man had come untouched on his cock again felt empowering and he dug his nails into the Slytherins skin to ground himself. His orgasm making him feel light and floaty. 

With one final finishing hard snap of his hips he let go and fell onto his back beside the man. Not caring if it was a tad to soon meaning his cum was probably dripping out of the man’s arse and onto the blankets. He wanted it all inside of him in his primal moment but he was completely out of breath. Tingling and sated in a world of happy relaxation. 

He hadn’t had such an intense fuck when not high for years. Staring up at the plain white ceiling he blinked wanting to clear the warm fuzzy after feeling of sex so he could think. That first shag they had together he was mostly in a dazz of disbelief but this was not that. 

The feeling of a hand running through his hair had him twisting his head away slightly but not enough to actually move away It was a wonderful feeling and that made it wrong. So wrong especially when paired with Malfoy. 

“Harry….” Mafloy said in a quiet tone that caused him to snap his head back over to look at the blonde with wide eyes for saying his name. Malfoy was just looking at him. Not evilly. Not smirking. Not like a pitiful puppy or with expectations. He was just looking at him. It caused a strange feeling in his chest. 

“It doesn’t have to be like this you know,” the Slytherin said gently again stroking his hair in a horribly casual and comforting way.

Harry took a deep breath. It seemed pointless to get worked up now being exposed and weak to his wants. The blond had slithered beneath his skin like he had always been capable of. Unlike their school days though Malfoy seemed to have made a little den somewhere inside to curl up in and take residence. 

“Like what?” Harry asked without any emotion. “I thought I fucked you pretty good. I guess if you want to conjure some knickers we can give it another go in a few.”

Draco actually raised his eyebrows in surprise but quickly shook the look. “No. This. Muggles. Gay clubs. Getting high to feel normal. Hiding.” 

Harry’s lips thinned on the subject again. “No.”

“It’s not wrong to be gay Harry,” Draco tried telling him. A line he had heard far too many times from far to many people.

“It’s not wrong for you to be gay,” Harry said like there was a difference. To him there was a difference. To the world it was a difference. How could a Saviour, a leader with highly influential power be gay? They couldn’t. They didn’t exist and it would be an absolute disaster between anger to heartbreak from everyone. He and everything he had ever done or said would be taken into question and thrown out the window. Howlrs creating a thunderstorm in Grimmauld Place. 

“I don’t matter,” Malfoy said and Harry blinked away the idea of tears that had started. “I never have. It’s about you. You’re perfect the way you are,” he told him and the Slytherin had the vulnerability to look down at the mattress. He even seemed to be blushing as if he regretted saying such a thing and he didnt know how to feel about that. Then Malfoy looked up at him through those long eyelashes.

“You’ve always been perfect just the way you are,” he repeated more confidently. Harry instantly opened his mouth to protest but Malfoy put a finger against his lips silencing him. “Not the way the Prophet writes you. Not the way those women fawn over you. You’re perfect because you’re you. I’ve always thought. Stupid nobility bullshit and all,” he said softly. 

Sitting upright the blond leaned over him. His breath caught in his throat when Malfoy kissed him so sweet and innocently. He hesitantly returned it’s gentle taste and wanted to go with the feeling when his lips left him. They were warm and reassuring and he wanted that. 

Harry just looked at him feeling more empty inside. His greyish blue eyes caring in a way he hadn’t seen before and it looked unnatural on him. Or maybe it was just a side he had never seen. “I’m not though,” he finally managed. “I’m not perfect the way I am.” 

“By whose standards? Yours or the wizarding world's?” Draco asked him with a more familiar tone of annoyance.

“Both,” Harry answered instantly. 

“That's a lie and you know it,” Draco said with a little more passion than he meant and he sat upright. It wouldn’t do any good to piss the man off because then he wouldn't talk. Hell he was lucky Harry was talking to him at all. “Since when do you care what people think? You never have. What's different now?” 

“Everything else was rubbish,” Harry said rolling his eyes. “Being gay isn’t. Imagine if people had found out before the war?” 

Draco narrowed his eyes. Knowing he was gay this long how could he possibly still be thinking like this? It had been nearly a decade. “So what? You’re going to keep pretending? Going through the motion? Lying your arse off to what? Please everyone else?”

Twisting his lips he didn't answer because he knew the answer. He didn't want to but that's exactly what he would do and he saw no way of escaping that. It was what it was. 

“Harry. You're gay,” Draco stated in case he needed to hear it from someone else. “You like blokes. So what? Be bloody proud of it.” 

“Like you?” he asked, sitting up finally. 

“Yes,” Malfoy said flatly. “Like me. I grew the courage to say it loud and proud enough that I was disowned. Shortly after the war. Because you showed me that I was capable of my own decisions and actions no matter the negative outcome. It would be worth it for my own happiness. Granted the war had a lot more curses keeping me in check but that doesn’t matter,” he waved off dismissively. “Be who you are Harry. Not who people want you to be. They wanted me to be a death eater that was straight and would produce lovely little pureblood heirs. I’m doing none of those things because that isn’t who I am.” 

“You don’t have the entire wizarding world looking up to you as an example Draco,” he said in painful sounding defeat. “Expecting everything of you to be the best role model you can be and what will the world do then? When they find out the Chosen One, the saviour of their world, is gay. Every person I ever saved will take into question my actions. Even you could go to Azkaban because they will question my sanity, especially at the time of it. Gay leaders don’t exist. This world or ours.” 

“So you think because you are gay the entire wizarding world will turn their back on you?” he asked for clarification. “What? You think they will also send you to St.Mungos?” 

Harry sighed. “No. Like I said. It doesn’t matter if you’re gay. But I can’t be. I have a job as a role model I have to uphold. Be the best example for the people I can and an inspiration. Gay men, or women, aren’t inspirational. They are unnatural beings that think about sex before anything else including the well being of others.”

Taking a deep breath he tried not to look at how shocked Draco’s face was. It hurt. Not because the man was shocked but because he was living a life he wanted. Saying everything he wanted to hear. What he had thought when he was still a teenager. He wanted to latch onto that, to him, and knowing he couldn’t made him stand and dress before he could do or say anything else that shouldn’t. 

The fact he was shagging men was bad enough. Shagging a wizard only made it about ten times worse. Then add on the fact it was a seemingly caring Malfoy and things just got odd even though it felt so good and natural. 

He was grateful that the man let him be in silence but it was growing more and more suffocating being there with him. His mind started to race with a million thoughts and feelings. Part of him hoped the blond would say something but he never did. 

When he put his hand on the door handle something stopped him and he could feel Malfoy staring into his back. He would get a time turner and erase their first fake date together. Yet he also wanted to look back. Go back. Stay. 

“I…” he started not actually knowing what to say but desperately wanting to say something. There was only one thing he figured out he could though and it all caused tears to try and pool in his eyes once again. “Goodbye Malfoy,” he said quietly, forcing himself out the door. 

Draco watched the Gryffindor leave depressingly. His brows were furrowed processing everything Harry had said. How he had acted. Something seemed off about it all and it caused both his hackles to rise and heart to hurt. 

Harry knew he was gay. Pretty much accepted it. Knew both the wizarding a muggle world were both pretty accepting of gay people. Yet continued whoring himself out to both female witches and muggle men alike to keep face for public opinion. Thinking that being gay meant he couldn’t be a role model? 

Only some cranky uptight purebloods would think that or some bigotted muggles, which clearly weren’t the case considering he was shagging them. Years of being told it was wrong meant someone had to be planting and continuing to feed that mindset. The more he thought about it the more his suspicions grew and the more he wanted to know what was really going on.


	5. Bleeding Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm yea this chapter got dragged on…...couldn’t seem to stop it though so it is probably nonsense rambling but this is the ---> TRIGGER WARNING ←- for self harm. As someone who suffered it I guess I found it too therapeutic to write but the dialogue was hard because I never had anyone ever talk to me about it or find me. So that is totally unfamiliar and me winging it.

Tap tap tap tap tap. Draco lifted his head up from his writing at the noise. He had spent most of the morning in his journal. It was his only real escape from the world where he could create one that was all his own. So far he was about half way into his original story but recent events had him jotting down new ideas and new scenes. Many of which were from his own life and the secrets it had held. In a way it was therapeutic although it brought up memories he hated reliving. 

Tap tap tap tap tap. Not having any idea who could be writing to him Draco reluctantly sat down his quill, got up and walked to the window. There was a large brownish owl pecking at the glass. A small piece of parchment tied to his leg. 

Draco studied it for a moment. The owl wasn’t one he knew which made him hesitant to take it. After the war and during his trial he had been sent a few letters containing curses, one of which had landed him in St.Mungos for a week. He shook his head, dispersing the memory. That was what he got for writing about the past. Paranoia. 

With slight hesitancy he opened the window behind the sofa and allowed the animal inside. It seemed mostly tamed but whooed at him almost angrily when he didn’t take the letter right away. Luckily the feathered creature didn’t nip at him when he went to take it off. 

As soon as he finished untying it though the owl took off without even waiting for a treat. Something that caused him more hopefully unneeded concern. Draco looked between the disappearing owl and the parchment in his hand. Briefly he considered waiting until Pansy was home to open it should there be a worst case scenario. However curiosity got the better of him once again. 

Malfoy,  
Harry told me about your two….. uh encounters. I honestly don't care or want to hear about it. However you are going to go to him right now and fix it. If you don't I promise I will bloody well make you. I don't know what you said but he is a right mess and I know it's your fault. He won’t leave his room and according to Kreacher he hasn’t since Monday. 

Go. Right now Malfoy. 

12 Grimmauld Palace  
Claremont Street  
Islington

R.W

Draco stared at the letter trying to piece something together even though he was still missing part of the puzzle. After Friday night he had chosen not to follow Harry the next day. Something told him they both needed a little distance after their conversation. He needed time to think more and Harry just needed space with his own thoughts, whatever they may be. 

The last five days he had spent mulling over his interactions with Harry and digging up old Prophet articles of the man. He even went as far as owling Luna for a little closer information since she was dating the she weasel. Something had to have happened between the two of them considering they were the hot featured couple at the end of the war.

As it turned out she and Ginny hadn't seen Harry for nearly two years. Apparently he never wanted to leave his house and he never allowed anyone other than Weasley and Granger inside. To him that sounded unusual for harry. The man seemed to have a decent sized circle of friends unlike himself. 

He assumed that's what the fights with Granger in his memories had been about. Home never leaving or anyone ever coming over. For some reason he just couldn’t see the Gryffindor witch allowing Harry to just sit around doing nothing and isolating himself. She was far too much a motivating and active person to let her best friend wallow around. Clearly that is what he was doing though. 

Although he had tried to think of someone he still couldn’t figure out who in Harry’s life could possibly be continuing to tell him how wrong of a person he was. That it was wrong to be gay and just be himself. It didn’t seem right that any of his friends would unless he had made new ones he wasn’t aware of. Which was definitely possible considering they had never been friends themselves and they didn’t talk much back in the day besides to exchange jabs at one another. 

Draco looked to the parchment again. Weasley’s handwriting was atrocious to the eyes. Something had to be seriously wrong if Weasley was writing to him. Not to mention Harry appeared to have told him the basics of their interaction, which apparently he didn’t care about. He didn’t understand why the man would have ever told his best friend he had slept with a former enemy, or a wizard for that matter. Honestly he thought the Gryffindor would take it to the grave with him. 

It seemed that Harry hadn’t told Weasley everything however, because he didn’t know what was wrong with his friend and was writing to him instead of making it better. He didn’t know what he could do about anything or why there was even a possibility the man would listen to him. That was if Harry even allowed him in the house to see him in the first place. 

Folding the letter and sticking it into his journal he was incredibly thankful Pansy wasn’t here now. He didn’t need her nagging and questioning him about the letter and his sudden leave. If it was something he said causing an issue he owed it to the man for provoking him so much. Unlike the old days he felt at least a mild sense of responsibility on the matter. 

Changing into something more acceptable than the joggers he liked to lounge in he got ready in record time compared to his normal routine. It wasn’t just Weasley’s so called boring attempt at a threat that had him leaving. What had him leaving was whatever Harry was dealing with and who was causing it. His distress was more than him. That was what he wanted to know and it was time he figured it out. 

XXXXXXXXXXX

When Draco apparated to the location he was taken off guard by landing on stairs instead of a sidewalk or road. An elf instantly opened the door which took him off guard yet again. It was as if the house and elf had expected him. 

“Mistress Cissy's young son,” the old ugly elf bowed allowing him in. 

Entering the small hallway Draco looked around and gathered the dingy old dark place with a faint hint of memory. It was familiar to him. Probably because it definitely appeared to be an old pureblood house and then the recognition clicked seeing the house elf heads hanging from the stairs. He had visited this house with his mother occasionally as a young child and had had bloody nightmares about those things. The memory caused him to shiver. 

“Where is Harry?” he asked. 

“Master is in his room. He wishes not to be disturbed,” the elf answered, closing the door behind him. Draco ignored the elves' words though and started walking up the stairs. “Master did not let the redhead in,” the elf called behind him. “He comes often. Master is most upset. Says Kreacher is to not bother him.” 

Stopping and turning around he eyed the elf. The fact he wasn’t allowing Weasley in at all gave him more reason for concern. Both of them had been the tightest best mates both during school and according to the Prophet since then as well. Granted in school Seamus and Dean might have taken the best on tightest mates considering they got married a few years post war. 

“Kreacher is it?” Draco asked. 

“Yes,” the elf bowed again. “Kreacher has lived to serve the ancient and noble house of Black.” 

“So you do remember my mother and I?” Draco asked with memories of his great aunt Walburga plaguing his mind. He reached into his trouser pocket and removed the pin he kept hidden inside. It had been one of the few tokens he had taken when he left the Manor. Said to have belonged to his cousin at one point and was a representation of his lineage. In the beginning it had slightly soothed his disowning but it no longer held any real meaning and was more of a habit to carry around. Much like his wand. 

“Cissy was most kind to Kreacher. Cissy is a most noble Black as is young son,” he said in a tone of awe. 

Draco questioned the elf’s enjoyment of his presence with a raised eyebrow. “Aren’t you aware I have been disowned?” 

“Kreacher is aware. Kreacher is aware that young Cissy’s son was disowned by the Master Malfoy. Not her. So Kreacher is most pleased to accept a young noble Black into its home,” he bowed again and Draco desperately wished he would quit that. 

“I need to see Harry Kreacher. I know he has ordered you to his isolation but I’m sure a reward could be given if you were to help me. As a Black I carry the family crest on my person,” Draco informed him and lifted the pin up for the old elf to see. His large eyes widened even further and when he bent down to give it to him he pulled it back before the elf could reach it. “Ah ah. You may have this heirloom only if you leave Harry and I alone until called upon. Do we have an agreement?” He knew the elf would never be able to turn down such a token, especially being so old and dedicated to the Black name, and he was correct. 

“Kreacher is most honored. Kreacher will leave Master and Cissy’s son in peace,” the elf bowed deeply and Draco cringed at the repetitive act. It had probably been beaten into him decades ago so telling him to stop was pointless.

Handing over the pin the old elf took it into his wrinkled hands and walked away mumbling to himself about loyalty and nobility or something. An ancient history. Draco just rolled his eyes and continued up the stairs. Looking up and down the dark hall he tried deciding which way to go. He should have asked the elf which room was Harry’s. Walking up and down he started the annoying task of opening door after door until he concluded the man was in none of them. 

There seemed to be at least one more level, probably two to the house so he headed up the next set of stairs. Unexpected magic stopped him in his tracks at the top stair. He could feel the hard wall of it pulsing before him. Wards. Adjusting to the feeling he pushed past the weight and followed the feel as they got stronger and stronger until he came before a door that felt thick and heavy with magic all around it. Harry.

Draco debated his options. There were two. He could hope Harry would drop them for him or try to break them himself. The odds of breaking them himself even with his skill were low considering Harry’s magical power which was flaunted by the media and admired after Voldermorts defeat. Either option though could also easily result in the man doubling up on the wards or doing Merlin knew what to him. Then again there was always the option of having Kreacher apparate him inside, which he had no doubt the elf would do. 

“Harry?” Draco tried softly hoping his tone would sound soothing enough to let him in. He didn’t know how the man would take to him being there, especially since he hadn’t let Weasley in. That meant Weasley and him had to have talked through the door. 

“Harry can you let me in?” he asked a little louder. Much to his frustration he still didn’t get a response. 

Taking a deep breath he decided to try a different tactic. “Potter open the goddamn door or Im gonna try breaking your stupid wards like a prat which is probably going to put me on my arse. Then Im going to get pissed and make that stupid old elf get me in there and I don’t want to touch that wrinkled little shit.” 

When Draco felt the first pulse of magic his heart skipped a beat out of slight fear of what the man was doing. He did have a temper and he wouldn’t put it past him to hex him blind. One date and shagging didn’t exactly count as a trusting open relationship between them. To his surprise though the heavy weight of magic faded away before him until he felt none of it left in his way. He let out a breath from the slight panic he had had and laughed. Of course the Gryffindor would open up to his old behavior. 

Even though he still hadn’t received a verbal answer Draco opened the door. The dropping of wards was basically a non verbal invitation anyways. When he opened it though he was somewhere between regret, anger, and forced to admit to himself tears at the sight. His stomach turned and he had to close his eyes to gather himself so he could stay in the room without too much emotion, getting sick, or overwhelming the Gryffindor. Something he definitely couldn’t do at the moment. 

Forcing his eyes open Draco looked around the rest of the room, taking in the surroundings instead preparing himself and observing. It was pretty clean and organized. Very few possessions actually inhabited it which surprised him. He expected much more personal items than some pictures and a couple quidditch items. 

However the room was also dim and reeked of depression despite the warm photos of happiness on his dresser. There was a hollow feeling throughout it which radiated from Harry himself who laid on the edge of the bed on his side in only his pants. Dark maroon covers Draco knew were meant to represent Gryffindor, probably a subtle form of security, were tangled between his legs as the man stared off emptily towards an empty wall. Completely ignoring his presence. 

The worst thing he had to absorb before he could move forward was the sight of Harry himself. His tannish skin was pale in appearance. There were bags under his eyes. His right arm was outstretched hanging over the bed while his other was nestled up across his chest and under his chin in an apparent attempt at comfort. It was a horrible thing to see. 

Silvery clean cut lines littered his exposed forearm. Enough that that some were crossed and mixed together enough that they became indistinguishable. Who knew how many months or years of self infliction was layered there. Draco wondered if his other arm looked the same and he hoped to Merlin it didn’t. With magic scarring wasn’t common among witches and wizards unless it was a bad curse or someone didn’t heal it in time. Meaning the Gryffindor had let them heal on their own.

There were six cuts that were open. Long and bleeding closer to his wrist. Fresh blood was still dripping steadily down onto the floor from them. Draco noted a few closer to his elbow that were already attempting to scab over with dried blood still attached to his skin below them. 

He had thought the drugs and drinking were bad but Draco considered the man cutting his own body open for feeling much worse. Swallowing down the physically ill feeling he tried putting on his mask to control himself as he walked over to Harry. The raven haired man still made no movement besides breathing and the occasional blinking. 

It was worse the closer Draco got. The lines where he had cut into his flesh were deeper than they had looked from the door. There was even more blood flowing than it appeared and the floor was stained and slightly puddled in it below where his arm hung. He took note of the still mostly full glass of water on the table beside the bed and the disturbing shiny razor blade that laid there in waiting with red glistening on the bottom of it. Unable to handle it Draco vanished the piece of metal. 

Slowly he dropped down onto his knees beside the bed so he was face level with the man. Carefully avoiding the blood and trying to pretend it wasn’t there. The Gryffindor still remained emotionless. Staring through him like he was less than a ghost. 

“Harry…..” Draco breathed sadly trying not to be emotional himself. It was hard seeing the once vibrant bounding man so lacking and lifeless. What had happened all this time that had changed him so much?

This was beyond personal and incredibly vulnerable from all angles. He wondered why Harry had let him in but not his best mate. “What are you doing?” he asked gently.

Harry’s lip twitched as if he debated speaking but he didn’t. Draco reached out forward slowly like he was trying to pet a timid dog. The man let him move back some of his messy hair off of his forehead. With his naturally unruly hair it was hard to tell if he had brushed it in days. Probably not. 

“Waiting,” the man finally said weakly after a moment. It was so quiet and weak that Draco almost didn’t catch it. Especially since he just continued looking through him like nothing. 

Draco tilted his head down so it was fully in Harry’s line of sight while he continued to stroke the man’s hair.. “Waiting for what?” 

“To bleed out,” he exhaled tiredly. 

Forcing himself he looked over to the man’s arm at the latest cuts. They were indeed quite deep, still bleeding, and appeared to have been done back to back. All centimeters from each other damaging the same thick vein. 

“Why?” he asked, swallowing thickly and trying to meet Harry’s eye’s line of sight.

Harry exhaled again like the idea of speaking took extra effort. “I’m tired.” 

Draco twisted his face trying to remain calm about the situation. “That’s when you go to sleep Harry.”

Harry finally moved. Shaking his head and blinking more. Draco watched him flex his arm and he himself winced when more blood oozed out of him faster. “I can’t sleep,” he said. “I just wake up.” 

Pursing his lips Draco knew what that train of thought meant but he didn’t want to follow it. “That’s usually what happens,” he said instead.

The man closed his eyes and Draco just watched continuing to stroke his hair. Unsure what else to do just yet. It was a lot to take in and he hadn’t prepared or planned for a situation like this. He had never experienced or met someone who had done this either. Usually he dealt with alcoholics like Goyle or another muggle model named Floyd he normally worked with. 

“He says I owe it to the War Orphans,” Harry said, breaking the moment of silence. “For not finishing him off sooner. For staying on the run so long. Hidden. That I owe it to my fellow students for putting them through a year with Snape and the Carrows. Even though Snape wasn’t the bloody problem,” Harry grumbled lowly. Draco just watched him talk with his eyes still closed and listened. He was probably replaying everything from the war in his head or more. 

“I tried, you know. I wanted to,” Harry continued expressionless and settled again into his position. “But if I’d come back before I had found each horcruxes I wouldn’t have been able to destroy him. Get to him mentally. He helped show me where some of the horcruxes were and we would never have been able to truly destroy him if they weren’t all gone. He would have just come back again later. I had to.”

Draco wanted to hold Harry close but instead he felt a spark of anger, clenching his fist against the bed frame so he wouldn't see the surge. “Who said all that?” he asked more calmly than he felt. 

“Mr.Clarke,” Harry answered blandly. “He is the charity organizer. Approached me not long after the war. I can't even remember when actually. He convinced me to start doing the dates in the first place. Even if I was gay and single I could still raise a little money a time or two. I mean he has a point. Then……” 

“Then what?” Draco demanded more loudly than intended, and he rubbed the man’s hair more soothingly in response when he pressed his other arm closer into his chest. 

“It never stopped,” Harry whispered and his face contorted in pain. Physical or emotional Draco didn't know. “He said I should do more. That it wasn’t right to be gay anyways. It was unnatural and I owed it as the Saviour to everyone to be the best example for them all. To all the young orphans who lost their parents due to my battle. Mine. Caring, powerful, normal….” he trailed off. 

“You aren’t normal Harry..” Draco started. It was the truth after all. He was an exceptional gifted wizard that had taken down the darkest wizard. “Not because you are gay though,” he quickly followed. “You are more talented than 95% of the wizarding world Potter. You survived two killing curses. You haven't been normal since you were a year old.”

Harry ignored him. “My aunt and uncle told me when I was young they thought I was going to be some stupid fairy. Just another sick addition to the twisted world. I was such a freak already it was guaranteed and that the cupboard was where someone like me belonged. Locked away so I wouldn’t taint society. They said it more as I got older especially after Cedric died. I had nightmares about it and apparently I would say his name. My cousin thought he was my boyfriend. Said if it wasn't for that crazy old fool I'd never have left beneath the stairs…..where an unnatural form like I belong….” 

It was almost like Harry was talking to himself the more he continued. His eyes refocusing onto the wall looking through at nothing again. Then he blinked his daze clear again and chuckled disturbingly. 

“Guess they were actually right about a lot,” he said.

In that moment Draco drew his hand back from Harry’s hair with the instinct to smack some sense into him but he tightened his shoulder muscles and stopped himself with great restraint. His anger was beginning to grow in his stomach the more the Gryffindor talked. How could the man possibly say such things? How could his family have said them to him? How could he honestly believe that now after everything? 

“Harry,” Draco tried calmly. “You have nothing to prove. Do you understand? It’s not wrong to be gay and you don’t owe anyone a bloody damn thing.” 

The man groaned sounding exhausted. “You sound like Hermione.” 

“Good,” he spat unintendedly. “Good. I knew that nagging witch wouldn’t let you think this bullshit. If you knew when you were gay in school why didn’t you care then? Why now? You know Granger doesn’t care. Or apparently Weasley. Most wizards don’t. What’s the problem?” 

Harry shrugged just enough to be noticeable. “Mr.Clarke is right. I looked it up. There has never been a gay witch or wizard of such a huge influential standing. The Wizengamot members find them 'unsavory’ was the word I think? Sure there are a few muggle idols that are gay but the hate for them by the most…...there are so many Draco. So many hate them and think they are sick. That it’s a mental problem and…..”

“Shut up Harry,” Draco said, unable to listen to anymore. He grabbed Harry’s face and forced him to look at him again. His green eyes were dull with tired pain. “Shut up okay? It’s not. Wrong. To be. Gay. No one cares where you put your fucking cock. Maybe some uptight old traditional purebloods and some bigotted muggleborns but who you love doesn’t matter. Now stop this.” 

The man actually relaxed in his hands. “I tried. I owled him Saturday and told him I didn’t want to do it anymore. That I wasn’t going to go on the date. He sent me an owl to meet him at his office so we could talk about it. He tried to guilt me and told me I still owe at least another six months. He’s right but I just can’t anymore Draco. I can’t.” 

Draco made a frustrated noise before he kissed him. Holding him more gently and kissing him with what he hoped was enough life and love to revive him a little. It felt amazing to receive an acknowledgement when the man’s lips moved against his in return. Satisfied he pulled away a little and he watched Harry’s eyes flutter back open a tad more vibrant than before. 

“How did that feel?” he asked. 

“Like muggles are boring and you're the same bloody git that has always been able to get to me,” Harry mumbled with what was almost a hint of a smile. 

Draco did smile finally and kissed him again. “That’s my Harry,” he praised playfully wanting to boost his mood. 

Harry rolled his eyes and looked at his own mutilated arm. “You don’t know me Draco.” 

“I know enough, but you’re right. We haven't really been around each other in years. I…” Draco halted himself debating if he wanted to actually admit more and sound sappy. He hated sappy but it was probably what the Gryffindor needed to hear. Truth. “I want to get to know you now. What I’ve missed all this time. I didn’t think it was this much and I didn’t think I wanted to before all this but I do.” 

“You’re just saying that for pity,” Harry sighed. 

Draco scoffed at the idea of taking pity on someone. “Oh yea? Ask Pansy. According to her I’ve been the equivalent of a hormonal pregnant witch since our first date. If I’d told her anything I bet she would have said I was hung up on you again. She thought I was dating a co worker or something. I mean she was close after all even though we aren’t dating." 

“I want to,” Harry said as he finished the sentence. 

Opening his mouth to talk no words came out and Draco darted his eyes around as he felt a blush rising to his face. Even though it was probably some twisted tangled web of emotion in the moment it still sounded far too enticing. 

“You’re just emotional Harry,” Draco told him.

“I know and after Friday I knew I wanted to,” Harry said like a brick was lifted off his chest. “I didn’t even want to leave. I didn't want to leave you. Sure I hated to vaguely admit I kind of liked you in a stubborn and irritating way at school but now?” Harry actually took the moment to look down his face and upper body. Tracing what he could see with his eyes. It caused Draco to raise an eyebrow at his boldness in his state. 

“You seem like you’ve matured yet still hold yourself the same. It's amazing and just so you. Admirable. Attractive even with that cocky little attitude of yours. I want to do normal things. Take my boyfriend on a date. Go on vacation. Enjoy some bloody quidditch matches. Get out of this merlin forsaken house. Have a job that doesn’t involve snogging fucking witches,” Harry wrinkled his nose. “I just don’t want this. I want to be happy.” 

“I want you to be happy also or I wouldn’t have well…….stalked you,” Draco shrugged carelessly with a smirk. He didn’t feel guilty about it and saying it was actually amusing. 

“Will you go out with me Draco?” Harry asked, looking up at him with far too much admiration. Green eyes that were suddenly sparklingly like a mooncalf under a clear night sky.

Draco felt himself giving way before he could even talk himself out of. “I tell you what. If you stop this,” he gestured to Harry’s wounded arm. “...and quit sleeping around we can see okay? After this is fixed and you feel better if you want to bring it up or still talk again we can.” 

Harry nodded mutely in understanding. A faint smile finally on his face. 

“Kreacher?” Draco called and he was pleased when the house elf cracked into the room with a pop. 

The elf’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped in surprise. “Master I fail…” 

“Ah,” Draco chastised him as he stood up. “Don’t even think about it.” The elf lowered his head and eyes and muttered under his breath. “Now. I need to go for a while. Heal and feed him then go get the Weasley and Granger. Harry needs to talk to them…”

“But I don’t ….” Harry tried interrupting but Draco shot him a nasty glare which silenced him. 

“Yes you do,” Draco said. “Weasley owled me concerned about you for what was apparently good reason. If you don't talk to him tonight I may have a duel to keep my bollocks attached later. Then I think you need to talk to Granger.” 

“Why?” he asked.

Draco looked at him oddly. “That bloody witch has apparently been on your case for years. If you're really done with this and you're serious I think you need to talk to her as annoying as she is. I'm not saying you should try and be best mates again or whatever but you owe it to her to admit she was right. I'm pretty sure she has always been looking over you and Weasley. It has to hurt her to some degree. It bloody well hurt me to know,” he reasoned and Harry submitted to the idea with a faint nod. 

“Merlin knows she will get off on that...” Draco mumbled to himself waving his wand over his trousers in case he had gotten any blood on him as he started walking. It wouldn't do at a time like this to look less than pristine for his cause. Perhaps he would even stop by his flat first.

“I heard that,” Harry called after him causing him to turn. He smiled seeing the man sitting upright, the elf already waving his hand over the man's arm healing his cuts. 

“You know it's true Potter, don't deny it,” Draco said and when he clearly mulled over the idea but still didn't argue he nearly laughed. “I have a serious arrangement to take care of but I promise I will be back okay? I should be back 11pm at the latest. Be good.” He winked at the man and when he did he saw a true smile overtake his face. Only one thing could feel more satisfying tonight. 


	6. Why?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I would like to say this chapter was a little hard and very satisfying. Firstly because explaining the reason behind self harm to people who haven't experienced it is hard. Then secondly because part of it was based on my desire to pulverize a family member.

Harry looked at his old friends sitting on his sofa. Both looking equally parts annoyed and bothered. Bothered probably because they were sitting so close to each other. Despite having broken up years ago they still liked to keep a fair bit of distance between themselves at least physically. Hermione had once said it felt awkward being so close, and Harry figured it probably was due to the fact he had found them far too many times in positions he wished he could obliviate from his mind. 

He knew the annoyed part was solely his doing. Ron probably was mad at him from earlier that morning when he wouldn’t let him into his room and would hardly talk to him. The news the wizard he had slept with was none other than Malfoy had no doubt annoyed him just as much. Hermione on the other hand had frankly been irritated with him for the last two years. Enough so that she had taken to only sending the occasional owl. Even though she wanted to be mad at him there was just too much between them to completely cut him out. Especially over her just being herself and his stubborn refusal to be the same. 

Hermione was also irritated at him because apparently she was wrapping up the rest of her work in the office and needed to get ready for her much anticipated date. Harry found it very Hermione for her to have a date in the middle of the week. Trying to get conversation going between old friends he had asked with who and to his surprise she answered, with a little bit of a snap, that it was none other than both Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. He hadn’t been able to find it in himself to ask more on that subject being taken off guard and they had since lapsed into uncomfortable silence. 

“So I see the ferret got you out of your room,” Ron finally said breaking the empty air with his voice. Hermione looked at Ron with confusion who was now taking a drink of his tea. He quickly swallowed and lowered his cup. “Oh he is shagging Malfoy now,” Ron elaborated.

“Harry!” Hermione gasped loudly. 

“What?” he asked with a little bit of a bite. The tone of her chastising voice had his hackles rising defensively. Maybe it was from already having suffered an almost two hours of Kreachers annoying and horrible attempt at mothering him like a wounded gnome. 

The witch brushed some of her curly hanging bangs out of her face seemingly embarrassed by her response. “Uh...nothing just uh...he is a wizard,” she said like he didn’t know who he was.

Harry nodded with her stupidly unsure the point of her statement considering they all knew who Draco was. “Kind of already knew that thanks.”

“I just don’t get it. Why would you sleep with a wizard?” she asked him seriously and Harry knew she had a valid point.

“And of all of them Malfoy. Why wouldn’t you go with Seamus? He is one hell of a good looking bloke with an ass,” Ron added on. “Or Theo if you wanted to go the skinny Slytherin route.”

Both he and Hermione looked at Ron surprised. Hermione surely because of his mentioning of Theo and him for the fact his best mate was evaluating male sexual appeal. Ron was practically the poster boy for heterosexual. Or so he had thought. 

Ron seemed to catch his admittance and blushed scarlet. “Er….”

“I just wanted to say…” Harry started scratching his temple and saving his friend from an awkward conversation. Besides if he lost his nerve he wasn’t sure he was up for circling back around to it considering he was second guessing his decision for the fifth time about doing this at all. It was time though. “...that uh...I’ve decided I'm done.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him wanting him to clarify which made him sigh. “I’m done pretending to be straight and doing the charity thing.” 

Tilting her head Hermione looked at him as if his words were another language and Ron looked dumbfounded. “Blimey. What the bloody hell did Malfoy say to you?” the redhead asked him. 

That seemed to shake Hermione out of whatever she was thinking. “Malfoy….Malfoy? How stupid can you be Harry! How do you know he isn’t running off to the Prophet right now!” she said as if she hadn’t caught the name the first time around. 

Harry figured it was because she was processing his sleeping with a wizard in general and her distance in their friendship nowadays vs who exactly the wizard was. The news at all was sure to be confusing for her considering how often and long she had tried to get him to come out to everyone. She was also probably mad that of all people it was their school bully who had gotten him to admit something so crucial. He understood her worry that he would be running off to out him to the world, something he had always assured he didn’t want. It had been his first concern as well. He thought he was going to die from a panic attack realizing what he had done. 

“Well we have been seeing each other for about a month now…..went on uh,” Harry twisted his face trying to decide if he wanted to count their interactions as dates. “...three dates now and he hasn’t said anything. He is the one that I don't know….talked to me?” 

Hermione shook her head like it would make her hearing better. “What have we been doing? We have been trying to talk to you for years Harry! Your best friends but it takes listening to Malfoy to get your head out of your arse?” 

Harry’s eyebrows rose at the witches' language. He wondered if that was in general and a personal change or if it was solely reserved for him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Draco just….saw me? Got to me? I don’t even know if I can explain it.” 

Ron huffed picking his tea cup back up. “Go figure. Ferret face has always been the one to rile him up since we were kids. Should have gone to go get him that one time you mentioned it Mione.”

The witch glared at them both and Harry wanted to lean away from her brown eyed gaze. He felt like a ten year old finally getting in trouble for admitting he broke the family’s only broom. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Draco could give the other wizard one thing. He appeared to live for his work. The sun had set a little bit ago and he was just now leaving his office. Locking the side staff door and surely heading towards the apparition point at the end of the street. 

With it being nearly 10pm and Diagon Alley basically empty. It was lit only by the moonlight which made it easy to walk out of the shadows unnoticed. Straightening his tie once again before stepping into the man’s way before he could round the building onto the main part of the street. 

“Hello. Mr.Clarke,” Draco smiled innocently as the man came to an abrupt halt. “Or do you prefer Rhyes?” 

When he had gone home to change into something much more professional he had done a little quick research on the charity organizer. It hadn’t been hard considering how active Mr.Clarke was in the community, and given the nature of the situation Draco had found it very important to take a serious approach to the matter at hand. That meant his top notch black suit and robes he kept tucked away and professional conversation. 

The shorter dark blond man looked up at him due to the slight height difference, surprised by his sudden presence. “I’m sorry but do I know you from somewhere?” he asked, shifting the brown bag he carried on his left shoulder.

“Who? Me?” Draco pointed to himself. “Surely you know who I am.” he said even though he knew the man probably didn’t. 

He furrowed his brows as expected. “Mmm no…..I can’t say I do. Now if you excuse me,” he said trying to excuse himself and get by.

Draco stepped in his way. “Not so fast,” he said sweetly.

“My apologies but I really must go,” Mr.Clarke tried again.

“It will have to wait I'm afraid. You and I need to have a little chat. Wizard to wizard if you know what I mean,” Draco continued and he felt pleased when the man finally showed some annoyance. 

“I don’t know who you think you are but get out of my way,” the man said tightly. 

“Of course and I will be happy to do so,” Draco said politely. “Once you release the contract you had Harry Potter signing. Trying to force someone to bring in money for charity?” He couldn’t help stopping to tsk tsk and shake his finger at the man in disapproval. “Not good for business Mr.Clarke.” 

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Clarke said cockily raising to a full height. “Mr.Potter willingly raises money for charity. The contract is merely a formality for the Ministry to ensure funds go where they are meant to go.” 

“Oh I don’t doubt Harry willingly started raising money for charity and I doubt he would stop,” he agreed. The Gryffindor was far too caring to not help raise money for a good cause. Especially for orphans such as himself. That was probably one of the reasons it had been the hardest to say no to. “However I do believe he would stop whoring himself out and pretending to be straight if you weren’t emotionally manipulating him.” 

The shorter man eyed him blankly, but Draco knew that analyzing look. One that was feeling him up for what he knew and what he was just pretending to know. So he decided to save him the trouble.

“How do you think the Prophet will take to knowing one of the top charity organizers in all of Britain is a bigot suppressing the happiness and well being of their Saviour due to muggle prejudice hmm?” Draco asked and he didn’t smile despite his desire when he saw the man’s jaw clench. He also wanted to circle the man like a vulture. Provoking. Waiting. 

“Considering outside of a few purebloods the wizarding world is quite accepting of gay individuals. Oh and of course a few asshole muggleborns,” he made sure to add. “You grew up like Harry didn’t you Mr.Clarke? Muggleborn. Muggle household. Expressed hate for ‘queers’,” Draco took a gamble on the last one based on Harry’s words and his personal knowledge of the muggle world. Mr.Clarke had indeed turned out to be a muggleborn along with being 43 years old from rural England. 

“Sound right? Sure you aren’t gay yourself?” Draco asked with a smirk just to taunt the man further. 

The next thing he knew was the sting of his cheek where the man had punched him and the beauty of the moon's reflection shining in a puddle near his boots where it had rained the previous day. Draco gently touched the tender spot and cracked his neck as he straightened it. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to a duel, let alone a physical fight but it seemed the man had quite a small threshold for the topic.

“How dare you call me one of them,” Mr.Clarke spat at him, his bag having dropped to the ground off his shoulder. “Mind your own bloody business boy.”

“You know,” Draco chuckled. “Scum like you is what gives charities and the Ministry bad names. Scum bags skiving off a good man for their benefit. The saviour of the wizarding world at that. Even Voldermort wouldn’t have you as his lowest lackey. In his eyes werewolves would hold a greater value than….”

The man punched him in the face again as he had hoped. This time however Draco let himself go with the force completely to keep the man in movement. He took the opportunity to punch him sideways in the jaw with his right first. As he regained his own balance Mr.Clarke stumbled backwards holding where he was hit and Draco kicked him in the stomach with his left leg hoping to knock him over.

To his surprise the man didn’t fall. Instead he stayed hunched over appearing to go for his wand. Draco advanced quickly punching him in the side of the cheek bone to disorient him before elbowing him on the shoulder that was going for the wand. He knew he could have just dueled him and he didn’t have any doubt in his skill, but at the moment something physical felt satisfying.

As he went down with gravity Draco brought his knee up, getting him in the chin. Being shorter it sent the man shooting upwards which almost caused him to fall back as he fell to his knees. The sound of his teeth clicking together from the impact was an extra sweet sound. He didn’t understand why the older man had even hit him if he couldn’t put up a decent fight. Perhaps the muggleborn relied heavily on magic and was weak. Over estimating his personal strength due to his physical stockiness compared to his own more lanky form.

Kicking him in the chest hard, getting flecks of grumbled old wet cobblestone on the man’s dark jumper, it sent Mr.Clarke finally falling onto his back. Draco only needed one stride to quickly place a foot on his throat before he could move or talk. Not that he thought he would consider since the man was holding his chest in pain. One thing about being a model was that he always made sure his body was in great shape. Not highly muscle defined but tight and muscled enough that he packed his own punch. 

Applying enough pressure with his boot to make his point the man grabbed at his ankle in a panic trying to move him off. Draco only applied a bit more pressure at his action which caused Mr.Clarke to scratch at his leg but Draco found fulfillment in the little amount of pain. Fueled by anger and adrenaline. 

“Here is what is going to happen Mr.Clarke,” he said in the same innocent tone he had started with. “You’re going to send Harry a termination notice immediately then incendio that contract within the next 15 minutes,” Draco waved his wand over the man’s body casting a non verbal and simple tracking charm. The man followed his wand pattern with his eyes looking panicked still. 

“I will know,” Draco lied with a sadist smirk although he wished he desperately knew a spell that could inform him of such a thing. The best he could do was pop by the man’s house later to see if he had indeed done it. “...and if you don’t well…...Im sure that lovely townhome you share with your incredibly dull wife and 6 year old over on Hamilton Street would be wonderful to visit later.”

As he said it he realized the charity organizer would probably put up wards around his house as soon as he got home but he internally shrugged. Tomorrow morning he would simply do a casual pop by to see how the man reacted to him. That would be a good enough indicator. 

Draco bent down to pick up the other man’s wand so he wouldn’t even have to risk a chance of being hexed before he could apparate. As soon as he did though Mr.Clarke went to reach for his head and Draco kicked him in the ribs with the tip of his boot causing him to groan in pain. In a spike of anger from the audacity to challenge him further when he was already on his back in the street he stomped on the man’s face. Blood instantly began spilling from his nose and his split lip.

Sticking his wand to his temple harshly, enough to leave an impression in his skin. “I would take this moment to obliviate you,” he threatened. “...but seeing as you need to remember this I won’t. You so much as contact Harry. You so much as say one bloody negative word about him and a broken nose will feel like a gift from Merlin himself compared to what I will do to you.” 

Forcing himself to remove his wand from the side of the man’s head Draco straightened himself up stiffly through the anger. “It was a pleasure doing business Mr.Clarke,” he sneered down at him. “I sure hope you don’t know someone talented in healing spells.” The man opened his mouth to speak despite the continued blood flow he was currently trying to hold back with his jumper sleeve, but Draco stomped down on his face again.

“Harry may be above such means for the wizarding world. I, however, am not,” Draco pointed out dangerously. 

Feeling incredibly pleased and successful in his tasks he eyed the wounded man on the ground one last time. A smug smile taking over his face seeing blood everywhere and the pained expression he wore. The old bastard deserved every bit of it and more. 

XXXXXXXXXXX

Arriving back at Grimmauld Place Draco felt much happier. Kreacher opened the door for him again and he instantly heard voices coming from one of the rooms. “Is he better? Did you get them?” he asked the old elf. 

“Kreacher is a loyal elf. Master acts like himself and Kreacher heals him. He refused dinner and bathing but Kreacher made him for young Cissy’s son. Master must be well,” the elf assured him. “The muggleborn was most stubborn but he brought her.”

Draco smiled. He was very thankful his attitude towards elves had changed after moving in with Pansy. Her own old sweet elf begging to come with her when she moved and dying only two years later. Considering it had taken care of her grandmother as a child it was beyond time for her passing. 

“Thank you Kreacher,” he said gratefully and he ignored the elf’s bow in favor of following the voices down the hall that led him to a sitting room. 

Harry sat in a high back armchair across a small coffee table where the redhead and familiar bushy haired witch sat. Weasley looked tired and done with whatever they were discussing and Granger looked positively pissed off. He figured she had a right to be since in his memories their arguments had been intense. Perhaps she had developed a temper from her short time with Weasley.

“Granger. Weasley,” Draco said in acknowledgement entering the room. “Having a lovely conversation?” Both of them turned to him and the redhead looked at the witch as if giving him a warning. 

“Lovely? Lovely? Of all people you!” Granger shrieked causing Draco to wince. It wasn’t a fake wince due to the high pitched voice but he pretended it was. He wasn’t exactly shocked at her reaction granted he thought it might have been slightly calmer after so long. Perhaps she was the one that was pregnant or having a bad menstrual cycle. 

Nodding Draco took a seat in the other armchair beside Harry, crossing his leg over the other. He had chosen to remain in his suit since he had wanted to return right away, and also because he knew he would end up talking to all the Gryffindors tonight. It felt like a meeting and that he needed to show off his matured collected behavior. Even if he had just bloodied someone up good. 

“Yes,” he said. “I'd say getting someone to agree to come out, quit cutting themselves, reach back out to you despite his being a stubborn prat, and apologizing to the Weasel for being a shit friend is lovely.”

Draco noticed Harry shift a little and he looked over to see him sinking into the chair seemingly trying to hide. Right away he knew he had made a mistake. A little feeling of guilt washing over him 

“Didn’t get that far did we?” he whispered regretting having said anything before he was ready. Being gone so long though he figured everything had been discussed and it was another reason the witch was pissed. “Sorry…” 

“What in the bloody hell does he mean Harry? Cutting themselves?” Ron asked without any real emotion with his focus solely stuck on his friend. 

Harry looked to him with a desperate expression and green eyes that practically begged him to say he didn’t have to do it. He wasn’t an expert in mind healing but admitting what he had done to people closest to him seemed like a must. At least it had been for him when he had seen the mind healer. Draco glanced down to his arms and back trying to communicate nonverbally that it was the right thing. 

The man exhaled heavily but still he slowly began rolling back the sleeves of his arms. Draco sighed sadly seeing he had been right about both arms being mutilated. Littered with rows and criss crosses of silvery scars. He had really hoped he had been wrong. 

Granger made a choked noise as her hands shot to cover her mouth. Draco watched tears welling up in her eyes and Weasleys jaw drop. They didn’t say anything, instead choosing to study the raven haired man’s arms in disbelief. It was clear that they hadn't had a clue and Draco was putting galleons on him constantly wearing a glamour to conceal them much like he did with his dark mark still. Harry looked at him with uncertainty on their reactions and quickly went to cover back up his arms. The movement caused Weasley to jump up. 

“What in the actual fuck Harry!” The redhead shouted loudly and for a second Draco thought he was going to pick up the teapot and throw it against the sickly looking wall. “Merlins sagging left tit Harry what is wrong with you! Why in the bloody hell would you do something like that?”

“Shut up Weasley,” Draco spat at him and the other Gryffindor turned on him instead of Harry. It wouldn’t do for Harry to hear accusations and be talked down to about his mental health. Being talked down to was part of the whole problem after all. 

“You. He did this because of you didn’t he? Finally coming out to another wizard and because it was you it was too bloody much to handle was it?” Weasley half asked and half accused. “I’ve been sitting here actually defending your annoying arse to her moody arse,” he gestured to the crying witch. “...and I find out my best mate has been cutting himself after talking with you? What in the fuck did you do to him?” 

“Me?” Draco said taken aback unsure if the redheads' words were genuine or if they were overdramatic. He was leaning towards overdramatic but then again they had quite a while to sit and talk without him. They all were best mates while he had never been Harry’s friend and only had started actually communicating with him without malice recently. 

“Ron it wasn’t him!” Harry tried interrupting and finally leaning up out of where he had shrunk into the old floral chair. 

“No? Then why Harry?” the redhead asked full of anger. “What was it? I send him here to fix shit since you two have been shagging and he clearly said something that got to you and then I come back here finding out that you are fucking cutting up your arms? What? Because you slept with a ferret face?” 

At his words Draco stood to leave without a second thought. Mostly because it had him questioning again why the other man had done it also. Their last interaction had been sleeping together. Him pushing the raven haired man to come out. Telling him what he was and wasn’t. He had to have been the triggering point. Maybe he was being too involved and had let things go too far. It just had felt right and he had wanted it but maybe it had been a selfish move. 

“Running away like you always do eh?” Weasley said to his back as he started walking but Draco ignored him. There was nothing more for him to add or say. He had tipped him over the edge and now he had his friends. That’s what he needed just like at times he came close to needing Pansy. Granted that wasn’t often at all. 

“Ron quit it. Draco no,” Harry called out. “No it wasn’t you. It wasn’t you Draco I swear!” 

Just as he reached the door frame he was yanked back at the shoulder to stop him and he quickly pulled away. Both due to confused hurt emotions and slight worry it was the redhead ready to hit him. Instead he was met with the unwavering familiar face of a man he once knew.

“Draco it wasn’t because of you. I promise. I’ve been doing this over three years,” Harry tried reassuring him and his green eyes were so focused he almost believed him. 

“What?!” Hermione yelled from the sofa and Harry swiveled his head. Draco could see fire burning in the witches' wet eyes and he knew the same was burning in Harry’s but when he looked back they were full of tenderness. 

“Draco please believe me. Please,” he said in a pleading voice taking his hands in his. They were warm and their skin mingled together beautifully. Harry's cream jumper highlighting his own tanner skin.

He wanted to believe the man and he mostly did, but there was this self doubt nagging in the corner of his brain telling him he should have never pushed the subject at all. Maybe he was too accepting of the situation. Perhaps Harry didn’t know what he was doing at all. To far gone mentally, but then again hadn’t he been at one point?

“Why should he believe you?” Weasley asked and Draco looked at him instead of Harry. His face was hard, angry and hurt. His freckles faded into his skin a little where it had turned red, probably in his resistance to get violent. Weasley’s temper was still very much there. Controlled for the most part but there when unleashed like a flood gate. Draco knew there were some things that could change to a degree but they never left. Even to him the teapot was looking tempting to smash now.

“Why should we believe you?” Weasley asked again this time to Harry. “You have been lying to literally everyone for years but you expect Malfoy of all people to believe you? What has twisted in your mind to admit things to him and not us Harry?” 

“I swear to Merlin himself if you don’t shut the fuck up Ron Im going to hex you all the way to your flat,” Harry snapped dropping his hands and spinning around to face the redhead. “I did it because I hated myself. Hated fucking life!” The man gestured to everything and nothing with his arms. “I wasn’t happy and all I did was try to feel something and continue to exist. Because at least if I felt something I was alive still. Even though half the time I wished I wasn’t. Would you have preferred I just offed myself like I wanted to? I promise you it crossed my mind more times than even I could count.” 

Weasley for once was taken aback by his friend's words and looked like he was trying to think of something to say but was coming up blank. Granger was chewing on her lips with her eyes closed processing or accepting the information. He wasn’t shocked though to find out the man had wanted to kill himself more often than not, especially the way he had found him. 

“No. Didn’t think so,” Harry said almost smugly with a huff but it was just him having merely made his point. “You won’t understand it. You’ve always been able to be who you are Ron…” 

“You have to Harry!” the redhead said, finding his voice again. “You’ve chose not to.” 

“Because he was being manipulated by that sorry excuse for a weak asshole Clarke,” Draco said without thinking and finding his own again also. Spending two years as a death eater mentally, and at times physically, controlled by others he knew that part of Harry’s struggle very well. 

At that both of his friends' heads straightened up with wide eyes as if in more shock than before and Draco let his head fall back not entirely surprised. “Didn’t tell them that part either I suppose.” 

“No,” Harry said without the sheepish look he expected. “We mostly talked about my decision to come out and of all people with you. Someone,” and he shot a nasty glare at Granger. “...wanted to get her knickers in a twist.”

“Don’t fret Granger. It’s not like we are dating. You can shag without it you know,” he scoffed. “I’m sure Blaise made you aware of that.” He added to take the witch off guard. While he wasn’t exactly buddies with his old classmate anymore he was with Pansy and the witch couldn’t help but gossip. 

It didn’t seem to fluster her though. “If you got him to finally do all this it’s cause of fucking feelings Malfoy. Whether it’s his, yours, or both. Something I’m surprised you’re even aware of.” 

Draco held himself a little higher with confidence. If there was one thing he had done since the war it was thinking of others and their emotions a little more than he once had. Even down to the muggles. While also analyzing his own more instead of just pretending. “People change Granger. I think of all people you would know based on how you're acting tonight. Little miss proper, perfect, collected know it all now the one that lets herself get worked into a frenzy acting like a hormonal witch that didn’t get off. Or maybe you spent too long with Weasley’s tongue down your throat that you took some of his short temper. Only thing that explains his earlier, apparently misplaced, defense of me.”

“WELL SORRY,” she shouted dramatically, finally getting up also. “... if I find out my best friend that has been shutting me out for years finally randomly decides to do exactly what I’ve been trying desperately to get him to do this entire time because of all people YOU,” she emphasized with annoyance “... with the new information that he has been hurting himself on top of it all!” 

“I get it okay?” Harry yelled over top of her. “I get it okay? Okay?” He took a deep breath and faced the palms of his hands towards the floor like he was trying to push everyone’s temper down. “Can we just…..not do this? Please? I know I was wrong. It was all wrong. I will answer and tell you anything you want. Take anything you have to say.” 

Harry looked him in the eyes again. They were those puppy dog eyes that had begged him earlier without vocalization. “Just please don’t go Draco. I will try to explain it. To you. To everyone. Please? Trust me? Haven’t I shared enough with you yet to show I trust you? Can’t you do the same for me?” 

Draco tried not to let his own emotions show with everyone around. It caused him to bite his inner cheek enough to have him thinking clearly, or as clearly as possible given it all. A large part of him didn’t want to trust the Gryffindor mostly to save himself the drama and potential hurt. Still he couldn’t help but feel like he could and frankly he knew why. 

Or at least hoped he did. Hoped he was telling the truth. Looking past the raven haired man he saw Granger and Weasley practically waiting on their seats with anticipation on what would happen. They looked open to what Harry was going to have to say or at least more so than they had been. 

“Alright,” Draco said without giving away his unease. Harry’s shoulders sagged in relief which made him feel marginally better for some reason. 

The Gryffindor grabbed his hand before he could change his mind and lead them back to the chairs. When Harry kissed him as he was sitting down he was taken off guard but sagged a little in his own relief. It was like physical reassurance that spoke better than words at the moment. Then the man sat down beside him and he blushed the faintest amount when he saw his friends faces again. 

“Bloody fucking hell Harry,” Weasley mumbled flopped down on the sofa causing it to scoot back, wearing his tired expression. “Where is the firewhiskey?” 


	7. Take It In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is my second multi chapter fest piece. Both have 7 chapters. Isn’t 7 supposed to be a lucky number? LOL I really hope you have enjoyed this as much as I have. Hope it wasn't to OOC and I know it was kind of on the short size I suppose also. Who knows. I may start a sequel one day if I get the idea for one or enough interest! Had fun. :)

Leaving England had been the most freeing feeling. There was no pressure and no weight. For once Harry honestly felt like he could just be himself, at total ease without worry or paranoia. 

Surprisingly neither Ron nor Hermione had made much of a fuss over his decision to leave. Probably because they just wanted him to finally be happy. Besides they did have a life of their own outside of their friendship. A friendship that he was still working on mending with Hermione. She had been pretty hurt at first but it hadn’t taken long for her to come around again. As long as he promised to make the occasional international floo call and check in. 

It wasn’t like he planned to be gone forever. At least he didn’t think so. The idea had sprung up during a conversation with Draco regarding coming out publicly to the wizarding world and how he dreaded the reaction still. How he wished he could just escape and not have to deal with any of it. What better way than to go on holiday? Then who said that holiday couldn’t just result in exploring for a while? He hadn’t ever been out of the country anyways and he might as well enjoy it. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a few life times worth of gold sitting in his vault. 

When he had officially decided to come out, Mr.Clarke had taken him off guard by sending him a notice of contract termination for the War Orphans dates. Apparently it had been sent during the hour he had tried to handle coming clean with his deepest issues to Ron and Hermione while trying to reassure Draco that he had done nothing wrong. It had been quite the challenge and while Ron and Hermione had both left with a certain amount of acceptance, Draco had stayed with reserve. All of which he understood. 

Kreacher had tried interrupting them once to tell him about the owl but he had sent the elf off being all tangled up trying to explain emotions. When he had finally retreated to bed and Draco had returned home the owl had been pecking away, frankly quite pissed off, at his bedroom window. The thing had even taken a few nips at him while he was removing the parchment. 

It hadn’t made much sense getting the letter when he did, or at all. He had even planned to make the public statement before going to Mr.Clarke again so he wouldn’t risk being guilted again. The timing was all just too perfect and coincidental which led to one explanation about a certain man’s sudden leave.

When he mentioned it to Draco the following day, despite his hiding a smirk, he could see the pleased expression in his greyish eyes that twinkled a little bit of blue from receiving the information. It actually didn’t take much prying to get the Slytherin to own up to the result. He actually seemed quite proud of whatever his ‘persuasive conversation with the man’ had meant. Harry was pretty sure that involved threatened curses or more but for once he hadn’t actually cared. 

Instead Harry had felt an overwhelming amount of happiness, admiration, and thankfulness for the blond being thrown back into his life when he had finally let a smirk over take his face. His more confident, ambitious and determined personality was something that he wanted to hold yet again. For some reason, even though not knowing the exact details, it had turned him on knowing that Draco had gone so far as to confront someone. Something he wasn’t sure the Draco from school was possible of. Especially for others. 

That afternoon he had shagged the Slytherin right on the sofa unwilling to wait to get to the bedroom and they had laid on the couch in the aftermath of an intense orgasm just talking. They talked and talked and talked more than he could remember talking to anyone in years. It had felt amazing. It had led to confessions from every angle and questions about their lives on every subject. Quiet apologies in some cases. Unable to stop the constant flow of conversation Draco ended up staying the night that night as they lost themselves in it.

The next day with Draco’s encouragement he wrote to Luna, the only source he was going to trust on the subject of his sexuality, for an interview to be arranged with the Quibbler. The Prophet could stuff it and make of it what he will. They would have his public statement from the witch regardless. 

Luna and Ginny had both been over excited to see him only a few days later. Ginny still felt uncomfortable to be around, for him anyways, given the heartbreak that had surrounded their breaking up right after the war. He knew and understood her feelings but for him it had been a confusing and difficult time trying to cling onto anything that made him feel loved at all. Which included his best mates little sister’s crush on him being an invitation into something close, comfortable and caring. It had been wrong and while he had expected Ron to go off like a canon he had actually seemed relieved. 

Draco hadn’t been there himself during the interview but Luna, being Luna, somehow knew of a relationship being evolved between them. He didn’t really care about her knowing because Luna was one of the only ones he trusted but Ginny had been a bit put off about the idea of his involvement with Draco. The blond witch on the other hand practically beamed and offered all kinds of suggestions for him, including visiting New Zealand for their triple winged dangleworms, once he told them about his idea to perhaps travel for a while. 

Before the article even hit the public, which Luna told him it would be released come the following Friday, Harry had packed his bags. He also had managed to convince Draco to come along. It hadn’t been all that difficult really. While he had his reservations something about him apparently had the blond caving to his wants. Harry wasn’t sure why but he was grateful for it and hoped it meant good things. Draco caving to his personal wants he was pretty sure was how he had ended up taking an unregistered port key to France Thursday night. 

There hadn’t been much Draco needed to do to be able to come with him. It turned out his work as a model was freelancing and he was able to come and go as he pleased. Then his only friend was none other than Pansy Parkinson that seemed unbothered by his presence, and almost glad to be rid of the blond after all his so called moodiness. As she realized he was actually leaving though it led to an almost tearful goodbye Harry knew would have happened had he not been there with the man. With another promise for the occasional international floo call they were finally out of England with little attachment left and two extended charm bags Hermione had made for them. 

Greece was the sixth country they had been to in the last 5 months. France in the end had felt too familiar for some reason and Germany and Denmark hadn't held much interest to them. With the extreme cultural differences they had stayed longer to experience it though. At least Draco had insisted on note taking purposes of some nature while he mostly drank their beer 

If there was one thing he would say about Germany was that he gave them some serious credit on mastering their lagers and ales. One of the goals he had made himself personally was cutting back from hard liquor to lower content and more casual stuff. With the aim to be cutting all the way back to only indulging on special occasions. It was refreshing not to feel constantly bogged down with alcohol or the heavyweight he had once felt. While it wasn’t exactly gone, it was definitely lighter than it had ever been.

Before they left Germany Harry discovered the Slytherin was actually a very gifted writer through all the notes he had been taking. It turned out he was working on both an original novel and memoir of sorts. The latter Draco refused to let him read. Slightly worried of his intentions he had snuck a glance once when the man was out wandering without him. The few scenes he had read he understood the unyielding privacy, and felt guilty of doubting him. He had decided not to let doubt overtake him and not to invade the blond’s stuff again. 

They had stayed in Switzerland for nearly a month after that in total awe of the mountains. Still snow capped in August, but with the lush bright greenery and flowers of life at their base. Harry even tried his hand at clique romance by wanting to visit a village that was the closest one to the jagged mountains. It had resulted in a surprise picnic in the meadow that was just right up the slope from a crystal blue sparkling lake. Draco had melted into his kiss which had led to a heavy snogging session right there on the blanket. He learned both that the man was a bit of a romantic sap, even if he pretended not to be, and that he wasn’t so bad at the romance stuff if he wanted to do it.

Much to his own personal protests and love of the mountains, perhaps due to the difference but slight similarities it had to Scotland they finally moved on. Italy was their next stop and he had instantly missed Switzerland. Italy was just down right crowded. There were far too many muggle tourists due to the summer months. So they hadn’t stayed more than a few days, Draco having visited the country once before made it less appealing for him, and on a total whim of the blond’s they had taken a muggle ship to the other Mediterranean country. Less popular and less visited, at least by wizards he was for certain. 

While they didn’t exactly stay and explore the wizarding districts in each country, they still found their way to them for at least a single day's stroll. Again mostly for the surplus of Draco’s notes that he said were either going to be for a potential study and/or another novel, and only slight curiosity. On occasion he felt like he was walking with Hermione except Draco didn’t rattle off facts and curious questions constantly. 

They were content to just walk in peace until something of actual vocal worthy interest came up between them both. Thankfully in other countries, while many knew of Voldermort and the Boy Who Lived none knew him as a familiar face. So to everyone else he blended in like any other wizard among them while Draco did his thing. 

Once The Quibbler interview hit the public, as he predicted, the Prophet and paparazzi went absolutely nuts. Hounding on him at a more than annoying level. Ron had told him as much when they had first floo called in Denmark. He had left the redhead in charge of checking in on Kreacher and the mail. Which ended up being a erumpent size pile consisting of letters from potential bachelors, still adoring fans offering their support and words, and the few howlrs he got expressing their hate, distaste and doubt in him. 

He even made the mistake of asking for the details of one and despite hesitation his friend had told him. That evening he had had a bit of a breakdown refilling his mind of everything he had ever thought since the end of the war. Except this time instead of a bottle and razor he had his head in Draco's lap while the man stroked his hair while he cried. The blond was far too understanding on the subject and gave him whatever he needed at the time. Be it space or smothering him in his arms.

The whole situation was a little challenging. While alcohol wasn't so much an addiction as it was an indulgence for him personally the self harm and cutting himself was another story. It was one thing he had relied on to not only feel alive, but to ground himself in place and pay back all the sins he had felt were his. Draco, as well as Ron and Hermione, were heel to the ground firm that he needed to quit the habit and talk instead. As it was something he often craved especially when triggered the task was hard to adjust to a life without it.

Everytime be thought about it, it reminded him how much he wanted away from it. Away from it all. He felt absolutely zero interest in involving himself with much of the wizarding world for a while. Particularly in England. Instead he wanted to just live without expectations and pressure.

Draco didn’t really have anything to say when Harry had told him that. It was still mind reeling after months spending time together how the Slytherin had matured. Sure they still had their squabbles with each other. Even once a heated argument that had led to almost two full days of not talking to each other, which had been hard considering they were sharing living space traveling together. Eventually though he had gotten the man to talk and they worked through the issue. Which had been, again, whether Harry was serious and in his right mind about their growing relationship. 

Finally in their current destination he convinced Draco that his feelings were genuine. Going even as far to say I love you. The man had developed a pink blush and quietly returned the sentimental words. It was one thing to shag, talk, and spend time together. It was another to admit love and want more. Something he wasn’t sure the blond had experienced much of. The whole situation from beginning to now made his heart swell in a way that showed him even more that what he had felt with Ginny was mediocre at best. 

He wanted to make sure they got in at least one more day of the village festival to celebrate their new admittance towards each other. Greece had proven far more interesting than any of the other countries. It had also been almost three weeks since their arrival and they were leaving the day after tomorrow for Brazil. 

With autumn right on their heels and imagining the brutal cold of home they had agreed to continue their adventures away from such weather. Draco’s love of the beaches had won him over after experiencing Greece and the man’s persuasion of modeling against the blue of the ocean. The water brought out the full blue in his eyes. 

Throughout their journey Draco had taught him how to really work a muggle camera he had packed. It wasn’t like he was unfamiliar with the item but adjusting it the way needed to quality photos and the best highlighting angles had took some learning. Eventually though he took to it well enough and sometimes when they found the best spots, or the blond was feeling particularly seductive or confident they spent a few hours doing photo shoots. Even if he wasn’t working the Slytherin still enjoyed his muggle career which could easily be a wizarding one in another country and wanted to build the best nature based portfolio he could ever have for when they decided what to do after their adventures. 

In all honesty Harry had actually come to enjoy taking photos of the tall blond man. With the right angle of his face with eyes flicking upwards with that typical smirk or cold expression that he was familiar with, especially with his shirt off was a sexual crime to him. Sometimes it had resulted in spontaneous and quick shags that risked the random stumbling of hikers upon them. However they had never been caught and it added to the thrill. 

Other times though they took much more innocent pictures like in the wizarding districts, restaurants, or towns if they had that charm about them. Harry would even snap something as simple as the sunset if it caught his eye. Really anything actually that made him feel light and happy. Like that of the Greek festival they had stumbled upon. 

Considering they didn't speak Greek and were using a subtle translation charm just like all the other countries, except their short stay in France since Draco could speak French, for simple basic needs they didn't actually know what the festival was all about. It didn't matter though because the amount of food he has never tried or even heard of, fresh produce, and the joyful smiles of the people around them conversing with laughs was inviting. There was lots of love felt in the very air itself. Animals being guided around, children and adults both alike riding others, and a whole range of other activities happening. It reminded him a lot of carnivals he had seen advertised in England. 

The beaches so far, as they had jumped a few islands, were absolutely stunning and incredibly isolated. With so many islands scattered in the sea there was so much variety between them all and aside from a few they didn’t seem to get much attention from people. They could probably spend another month just trying to experience each one and not see many others. He was excited for Brazil though and the more tropical feel it would have. Harry desperately hoped it wasn’t crowded like Italy. Granted the country was huge and they could explore more than just the shores. 

He and Draco had spent the previous day sunbathing on the beach. One with large rocks scattered about on the sand closer to the high cliffs on either side of them. The hot sun bearing down on them. Personally he had felt like he was baking in it’s rays. While he wasn’t exactly dark skinned he wondered after all the tropical countries they would visit this upcoming winter how his skin would change. His mother had been very pale but he had his father's closer to olive tint. 

Today though he wasn't in the mood for just laying about today cooking away but he was more than ready for an evening swim. Feeling how cool the water was as he walked the shoreline with the setting sun he headed back to the tent. They had bought and packed a wizarding tent full of everything they could possibly need on their travels. They had figured the odds of them staying in a wizarding hotel were low and they were certain there would be quite a few times where they just wanted peace and privacy of no muggles. So a tent it had been. 

While they spent some time apart, whether it be so he himself could just enjoy the peace and isolation or Draco could have the quiet to write like right now, it was always fulfilling and just the right amount. The right amount that had him seriously hoping the blond would join him in the water. Waves were not too strong, the tide wasn’t high, and most of the time their laughs and taunts made the whole experience much more enjoyable. 

Opening the large tent flap he tried being quiet entering the main sitting area in case the blond was scribbling away in one of his focused trances that would earn him a snap of ‘shut up’ from the blond if he was too loud. Not seeing him sitting at the little desk they had packed he smiled.

“The water feels bloody brilliant Draco. Let’s….” Harry halted in his tracks and looked around not seeing the man at first. Then he caught the form of the Slytherin out of the corner of his eye behind him to the side right where he was standing. It caused him to jump and turn at first but then his jaw dropped seeing what the man was wearing. 

Instead of his swim trunks or shorts, the blond wore only what could hardly count as a skirt. It barely made it to the middle of his thighs and was loose enough the lightest breeze would cause it to flutter enough to get a peak at what was underneath. If the man even bent over his arse would be on full display. 

It wasn’t the first skirt Draco had worn in their time together. He had surprised Harry on many occasions with a few different ones. Maybe it was over confidence but the man managed to wear them in a way he was sure no other man could. Like always Harry walked up to him quickly and placed a hard kiss on his waiting mouth. Any time he put one on was when he was feeling particularly frisky. The man just knew how to get to him now on every level. 

Without words needed he gripped at Draco’s neck as they worked each other’s lips open. Slowly letting them slide south as the blond nibbled on them causing him to drag his nails down his chest, and across a stiff nipple roughly. Just the way he liked it. His cock had already started growing hard from the second he had seen the tiny skirt against his long pale legs that loved being devoured. 

Instead he ran his tongue along the man’s sharp jaw up behind his ear. Sucking gently on the soft skin there. Sometimes he liked when the man would transfigure his hair slightly longer. While he preferred the short cut he always kept that first memory together, watching him transform into himself was blood rushing. Feeling the tickle against his nose, the curtain that held it’s secrets before revealing that cock hardening truth. 

“Are you wearing them?” Harry breathed caressing the man’s naked ribs, biting lightly against his neck.

“It’s always a surprise isn’t it?” Draco said in that tone that Harry knew meant he was wearing that evil grin that brought back the fire of youthful challenge between them. That aspect between them was never going to change. 

Harry vocally and visibly shivered when he slid his hands up under the blond’s skirt and they rubbed over the thin silky fabric. He knew where the love for Draco in women’s clothing came from. It was from all those times he wished he would sink down and get a massive cock shoved down his throat instead of the distasteful parts that made him cringe. Those colorful knickers now always hide that sweet sweet craving he desired. Because of it they couldn’t possibly be more erotic to him. He was living a fantasy, but this time it was a reality. 

Growling in his throat he continued to rub at the hardened cock kept in the confines of his knickers. Draco's wasn't exactly a massive cock but it was enough to choke him and he loved it. One day he wondered if they might switch up positions in bed but Draco clearly preferred to bottom. Telling him once how he enjoyed his natural dominance even if he didn’t see it much himself. It was something the blond liked to call his inner lion. 

Yanking down the fabric Harry tucked it under the man's scrotum which was heavy as he rolled his balls around in his hand. Taking a hold of the stiff length he started stroking him while they snogged. Wanking him until he was moaning against him and starting to buck into his fist. 

Without a second thought, the moment feeling just too perfect for it, Harry sunk down slowly to his knees. He didn't even need to move the skirt considering how short it was and how tall Draco's erection stood. Seeing that the knickers were light blue this time, contrasting against his golden pubes on the edge, caused his own to twitch taking in the visual. 

Enthusiastically Harry took him into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around the swollen head and continuing to stroke the base of the man's hardness. Sometimes he had just a little to much fun giving blow jobs and he always knew he was taking too long and teasing when a hand would worm its way into his hair. Scratching at his scalp until finally twisting a fist full of it for control. 

“Suck, oh…suck me like you mean it Harry. Come on, oh oh oh….” Draco’s grip tightened in his hair painfully as he started thrusting into his mouth trying to hold him in place. Meeting him halfway, the head of his cock almost brushed the back of his throat each time causing his hairs to stand up with anticipation.

Doubling his efforts Harry held onto the blond’s thighs. Knowing each second by the moans above him that the man was about to explode in his mouth. Licking and sucking with determination until he finally was. Cumming with a mewl and rough thrust that caused him to gag for a second. Throat tightening around his cock as semen started spilling inside him which he tried to swallow quickly. He loved the feeling of the hard weight on his tongue and taste of the hot overflowing liquid. 

The blond kept his cock deep in his throat forcing him to adjust to it until he was well and spent. Cum shooting down his throat and leaking out the side of his mouth. His hair felt like it was going to be pulled out until his grip finally relaxed and he could feel Draco go weaker at the knees. Sputtering a bit as the man slowly removed himself Harry recovered and naturally took to the task of trying to clean them both up with soft licks just like he enjoyed. 

While by technical terms he was the top, Draco was still very much a controlling power bottom at times. Proven when he stopped him mid process and pulled him up by his now tender hair to cover his cum smeared lips with his own. Driving his tongue into his mouth. One of the many things he had learned about the man in his sex life was that he was a complete cum slut. It was ridiculously hot and it had him openly letting the man devour all the flavour he wanted. 

“You kinky bastard,” Harry laughed, tilting away a little to rub at his own aching cock through his trunks that was still suffering neglect. However Draco took the opportunity of an open mouth to suck on his tongue. 

“And you love it,” Draco said, smugly narrowing his eyes playfully. 

“You’re right,” he said right back at him, kissing him again. This time Draco laughed before moving away to rid himself of the skirt and small piece of silk. Instead of heading towards his wardrobe to get his trunks Draco just started walking out of their tent completely naked.

“Let's go swimming. It's been bloody hot today,” the blond complained lightly walking out of their tent completely naked. The summer heat of August was some of the hottest.

Harry gaped at the man leaving him standing with a raging hard on and followed him out quickly. He showed no signs of coming back inside and his cock still shined with saliva against the setting sun's light. His firm bare ass held a beautiful shadow on it as he walked towards the water. Looking up and down the beach in concern Harry made sure no one was there. 

“Aren't you going to put your swim trunks on?” he asked. “You can't just go walking onto the beach completely starkers!”

The blond turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Why not?” 

Harry gestured around them even though there was nothing in visible range. “What if someone sees you?” 

Draco shook his head. “We are the only ones on this strip of beach. Besides it's not like skinny dipping isn't common or we haven’t fucked in parks before. I'm not shy in case you haven’t noticed by now.” he smirked when Harry looked frustrated. “What? Worried someone will start oogling your boyfriend or something?” 

Harry narrowed his eyes at him and Draco laughed. “Loose the trunks and let's go. Move your arse and I might let you fuck mine out there,” and he nodded towards the sea. “Scared Potter?” he smirked before turning and walking back towards the water again. 

Harry couldn't help the smile that broke out across his face at the old memory between them. Draco was right. There was no one around. No one was out to get him. There was no need to hide about anything anymore. He could do whatever the hell he wanted and all he had ever wanted was to do exactly that. Take it all in.

Shucking off his bottoms Harry felt a rush of excitement go through him. Completely naked he took off in a run across the sand he caught up with the Slytherin and nudged him in his shoulder. It earned him one in return and the corner of Draco's mouth upturned in that adorable smile he wore when he didn't really want to give in all the way. 

While it was some of the things Harry had always imagined in the big picture, freedom and happiness, it was something he never imagined on a small scale. Malfoy. Traveling. Photography. Skirts. They were all something he never knew he wanted and now it was something he never wanted to change.

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